


i'm not safe here (and you know it)

by riverdalenerdlol



Series: finding safety (in security) [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AND SHE REALLY DONT DESERVE IT, Abusive Parents, Also a very helpful bean, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Author/Writer Betty Cooper, Awkward meeting, Because they decide that my bean needs everything fucked up for her, Betty Cooper Needs a Hug, Bodyguard Jughead Jones, F/F, F/M, He helps cheer up Betty because he's a good boi, Hot Dog is featured as a therapy dog, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kevin is Betty's bestie from her job, Light Angst, Malachi and the Coopers show up periodically to fuck things up, Maybe. Probably. IDK., Mentions of Abusive Relationships, Mostly Fluff, New York Times, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Jughead Jones, Reporter Betty Cooper, Secrets, There’s a bit of violence too, Veronica Cheryl and Toni are roommates with Betty, What a fluffy bean, a happy ending if i ever get around to writing it, and by folks I mean Betty, and leave a comment if you wanna be nice :), background choni, bughead - Freeform, but when it comes to tagging it's like I forget the entire plot, choni, excuse my lack of accurate tagging please and just read the story, im bad at tagging, is this in here?, mostly Jughead avenging folks, slowburn, tagging every little thing is hard, the first half of this is pretty depressing, the first nine chapters are where shitty things happen to the main characters, the second half is still depressing but with much more emotional support, the tenth chapter is a lot lighter, there should be a lot more stuff in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2019-10-27 17:17:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 112,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17770976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverdalenerdlol/pseuds/riverdalenerdlol
Summary: 11:35 PMThe blonde spun around once more to check behind her, and she thought she saw a movement. She pulled one earbud out and started walking faster. She berated herself in her mind.Veronica offered to walk home with you, but you declined, you dumbass.The anxiety was beginning to take over. Betty shoved her hands in the pockets of her pale grey wool jacket. After everything that had happened to her, the last thing she wanted was to get mugged on the streets of New York. Naturally, today had been the day that she left her pepper spray at home, and she was now angry at herself for that too.And suddenly, she could hear the footsteps behind her. Her mind blanked.*NOMINEE: 5th BUGHEAD FANFICTION AWARDS*





	1. trauma

**Author's Note:**

> trauma - a deeply distressing or disturbing experience

_11:28 PM_

 

Betty stepped foot outside _The New York Times_ office building, breathing in the crisp winter air. She sighed before turning and beginning to walk down the street, one earbud in her ear playing the internet’s newest pop song. New York was one of the last places she really wanted to be alone on a Thursday evening, but the streets seemed pretty calm as she was walking back to her apartment.

 

The blonde was getting used to being alone now. She’d cut it off with _him_ about two days ago, finding a way out of the mess that she had called _a relationship._ Once she’d cut that tie, she wasn’t going back. Never again. She never wanted to see his face again.

 

_11:32 PM_

 

The roads were still fairly quiet as Betty passed Pop’s, the best diner in New York. She smiled as she passed, waving to the elderly yet jovial man behind the counter. He waved back enthusiastically and the blonde was able to smile. As Betty exhaled, she could see her breath in front of her as she placed the second earbud in her ear.

 

With a weird and suspicious thought, Betty turned around, still walking. She could swear that she’d felt eyes bearing on her back. There was no one there, so she faced forward once more. The streets were still dark besides the streetlights, and Betty glanced up at the moon. The white light was calming, along with the music flooding through her ears.

 

_11:35 PM_

 

As Betty kept walking, she felt like she was being watched. Maybe it was some sort of fan of hers, but she didn’t usually encounter too many of them. Her book wasn’t any sort of work of fiction, it was cold, hard truth. She’d moved to New York to get away from her family, and after cutting all ties with them, she decided to publish the book. Betty had been left with a good sum of money and a bestseller.

 

Her parents had tried to contact her, finding ways to send hateful emails about what she exposed. That was what had hurt the most. She found someone to lean on during that time, but he’d ended up hurting her too. Through the pain, Betty still had her job at _The New York Times_ , she still had her friends, and she still had her book.

 

The blonde spun around once more to check behind her, and she thought she saw a movement. She pulled one earbud out and started walking faster. She berated herself in her mind.

 

_Veronica offered to walk home with you, but you declined, you dumbass._

 

The anxiety was beginning to take over. Betty shoved her hands in the pockets of her pale grey wool jacket. After everything that had happened to her, the last thing she wanted was to get mugged on the streets of New York. Naturally, today had been the day that she left her pepper spray at home, and she was now angry at herself for that too.

 

And suddenly, she could hear the footsteps behind her. Her mind blanked.

 

_11:37 PM_

 

 _Just around the corner,_ Betty thought. _Just around the corner and you’re free to lock the door behind you and climb into bed._

 

Eyes straight forward, the blonde kept walking, her ponytail swinging back and forth with each step. To keep her mind from spiraling, she’d kept her eyes glued to the ground and focused on the worn cement of the sidewalk. Betty had turned her music off after she’d heard the footsteps, and she could hear them getting closer.

 

In front of her, someone walking towards her got her attention. He had a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, headphones over his ears, and a jean jacket with a sherpa collar over a black polo and khakis. She thought this man was peculiar as he passed because she didn’t really get to see his face, but she didn’t feel threatened by his passing. If anything he seemed friendly, twisting what she could see of his mouth into a polite smile as they passed each other.

 

Once he was gone, Betty didn’t hear the footsteps behind her anymore. The burning feeling of being watched entrapped her still. With a nervous glance over her shoulder, she turned and saw a dark figure three steps behind her. Before she could scream or run, he grabbed her and pulled her into a dark alley.

 

_11:38 PM_

 

Betty was thrown to the ground in the darkness. Her mouth was still covered by their hand as she tried to kick, punch, and scream. His voice felt familiar and so did his rough touch. Tears were running down her face in fear.

 

“You thought you could get away from me?” He growled. “You were absolutely wrong.” The man pinned her wrists to the ground. “You’re all mine. Now, and forever, cupcake.”

 

When Betty almost nailed her heel into his diaphragm, he took his hand off of her mouth, planting it around her throat and squeezing. Betty sputtered, trying to breathe.

 

“Let... g-go...” the blonde coughed out, her eyes beginning to droop. She couldn’t breathe, and she felt herself about to slip under.

 

“Not until I--”

 

_11:39 PM_

 

The pressure suddenly released on her neck. She felt herself taking a large gulp of air and rolled onto her side, coughing harshly. When she was able to breathe without coughing, she felt like she was wheezing in and out.

 

Her ears were ringing. The sound was deafening. She heard a voice through the incessant noise.

 

“Run!” Someone screamed at her. “Go!”

 

Before she could think, Betty got to her feet and scrambled out of the alley. She ran as fast as she could around the corner and into her apartment building. Feeling too much adrenaline to wait for the elevator, she took the stairs, running up to the third floor. She stumbled on her way up, but rose and kept climbing. When she was on her floor, she bolted to her door, fumbling for her key. With a shaking hand, she found a way to unlock the door.

 

_11:47 PM_

 

Betty got inside and slammed the door closed behind her, shutting every single lock with trembling fingers. She was still breathing heavily, feeling like she was wheezing through every inhale and exhale.

 

“B? Is that you?”

 

Betty jumped and saw Veronica behind her.

 

The calming effect was instant. _I’m home,_ she thought. Her whole body relaxed, and she felt her eyes roll back into her head. Betty let go.

 

The blonde passed out and hit the floor.

 

_8:24 AM, the next day_

 

She didn’t sleep a wink. Her mind was wandering, and she jumped whenever a door shut in the apartment. She was wrapped in blankets, but she was still freezing cold. Her eyes were the same emerald green that they’d always been, but the whites were bloodshot and the look behind her pupils was haunted.

 

His words kept running through her head.

 

_You thought you could get away from me? You were absolutely wrong._

 

It sent shivers through her body.

 

Since she’d woken up, Betty had four panic attacks. Two of them happened while Veronica was trying to take care of her. The first was when she woke up and had no idea that she was in her own bed, tucked under the covers. When Betty had seen Veronica, she ran into the bathroom and locked herself in, slumping to the floor and crying.

 

“Betty,” she’d said. “B, please.”

 

When the tears had drained her, and she realized she was safe, Betty was able to open the door. Veronica tried to open her arms for a hug, but the blonde shook her head no, and her best friend understood.

 

Betty couldn’t remember how she got back, and what happened when she got back, but she remembered a different, kinder voice that told her to get away while she could. Betty couldn’t help but listen to him, even as she coughed and wheezed.

 

_Run! Go!_

 

In the back of her head were those person’s words. Whoever had been lonely enough to be walking on the streets at that hour and brave enough to stop someone violent was now her hero. She knew it was a man from his voice, and whoever he was, she probably had him to thank for still being alive.

 

She didn’t know who who had saved her, but she definitely knew who had attacked her. She didn’t like thinking about him already, but now she had another reason to hate him.

 

The door to Betty’s bedroom opened, and the blonde jumped again.

 

“Sorry,” Veronica whispered. “I thought you would have been asleep. I brought some tea. Chamomile, your favorite.”

 

Betty tried to relax inside her cocoon of blankets but her muscles stayed stiff and her head stayed alert. She watched Veronica place the teacup and saucer on her bedside table with a dull clink.

 

“Can we talk yet?” Veronica asked. Betty still hadn’t said a word. The way she looked into her best friend’s eyes, Veronica could tell that Betty _did_ want to say something. Maybe she just didn’t know how to say it.

 

“Please, B. I need to know how to help you. Cheryl and Toni and I want to help you. That’s all it is.”

 

With a sigh and a cough, Betty answered in a hoarse voice.

 

“What do you want to know?” Her voice cracked.

 

“What has you this harrowed, B?”

 

_8:56 AM_

 

When Betty was done telling Veronica everything, they were both left in tears and Veronica had climbed up to sit on the bed next to her best friend. Betty’s head rested on the raven-haired girl’s shoulder, finally finding some sort of comfort.

 

“I knew I should have waited for you, B.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” she croaked in response, taking a sip of warm tea.

 

“There are just... ways we could have avoided it, is all.”

 

“You say that as if all of us moving in together wasn’t us trying to avoid _it.”_

 

“That was our idea to get you out of that house and where he wouldn’t know where you slept. Plus, now you have your agent, stylist, and publicist in the same apartment.”

 

“You’re my friends,” Betty replied. This was true. They’d all met in college at Riverdale University. They were all twenty and all looking for their big break when Betty realized that her friends were specializing in subjects that could help her get her name out as an author. Veronica had been in communications, Cheryl in fashion, and Toni in public relations, they were the three best friends an aspiring author could find. Now all four of them were sitting on some pretty well-stacked money because of Betty’s success.

 

“And as your friends, it’s our job to keep each other safe,” Veronica said. “We failed last night.”

 

“Veronica, I’m not hurt--”

 

“You haven’t seen yourself in the mirror, have you?” she asked delicately. Betty shook her head. Veronica sighed, pulling out her phone and opening it to the front-facing camera. She handed Betty her phone.

 

There were purple marks around her throat and where her windpipe was. As Betty held the phone up, she noticed more bruises on her wrists. She touched the spots with her free hand and winced at the contact.

 

“He won’t ever stop,” Betty muttered, putting down the phone. “He will find me. He will find all of us.”

 

“Betty--”

 

“He will come back, and he will take me next time,” she rambled a bit louder, her fingers curling into her palms.

 

“B, of course he won’t.”

 

“He’ll take me and he’ll hurt me and he’ll take everything I’ve ever loved.” Her fingernails dug deeper. She was almost yelling now.

 

“Betty--”

 

She jumped out of bed and ran into her bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Sobs could be heard through the door. Veronica got up, went to the door, and knocked.

 

“If I scared you by knocking, I’m sorry, B,” she said quickly. “If you’re really worried about it, we have enough money put together to get a nicer apartment away from here, maybe even closer to _The Times_. Whatever solution is most doable for you, we can do it.”

 

“He’ll still find me.”

 

“And maybe he will, but we can take measures to make sure he can’t _get_ to you.” Veronica paused. “There’s a difference in him knowing where you are and him knowing where you are _and_ having access to you.”

 

There was some shuffling behind the door, and then it opened.

 

“I’m listening,” she whispered.

 

_10:17 AM_

 

“Betty agreed with it,” Veronica told them.

 

“Let me get this straight,” Cheryl said. “Even though we just got Bettykins away from that piece of vermin two weeks, she wants to get out of this building to go somewhere safer. And this somewhere is in one of your father’s buildings?”

 

“After I did some digging, this place would be a benefit for all of us,” Veronica said. “Betty’s fans have started to gather little by little outside our building, for one, and my father’s buildings have security. We would probably be paying lower rent than we are here because I’m his daughter and the apartment itself is much nicer than what we have now.”

 

“What about our jobs?” Toni asked.

 

“We all benefit from Betty’s comfort, T,” Veronica said. “She is our employer, after all, and her book is still a bestseller. We’re benefiting from her success. The least we can do is help her along. As for our jobs on the side, my dad’s building is closer to the center of the city, meaning that we would all have shorter trips to our jobs.”

 

“You know what,” Cheryl said, standing up. “Let’s do it. I’m in.”

 

“He doesn’t know where she is,” Toni said. “We’re still safe here.”

 

“He went out of his way to find her last night, T,” Veronica said. “We need to get away from this area.”

 

“I didn’t know he’d gone out of his way...” Toni muttered guiltily. “And B is good with this plan?”

 

“The sooner she can get out of here, she will,” Veronica replied. “But not immediately. I finally got her to sleep.”

 

“She didn’t sleep?” Cheryl asked.

 

“Not a bit,” Veronica said. “She told me herself.”

 

“I’m not surprised,” Toni added. “After something like that, I wouldn’t be sleeping either.”

 

“And with all the shit she’s still getting from her parents?” Cheryl asked. “Betty doesn’t need anything else to be anxious about.”

 

“She’s _still_ getting emails?” Veronica asked. She let her forehead fall into the palm of her hand. “I should’ve known.”

 

“It’s not your fault, Ron. You can’t be held responsible for something you didn’t know about,” Cheryl replied. “After all--”

 

There was a blood-curdling scream from Betty’s room. The three women scampered over to her door, opening it quickly and letting themselves in. Veronica immediately found herself at Betty’s side, cradling and shushing the blonde.

 

Her green eyes were drawn wide, curling her fingers into fists, and hyperventilating. She rocked back and forth as she wheezed.

 

“It’s okay, you’re safe, Betty,” Veronica whispered. “You’re safe with us.”

 

Betty nodded, only believing them because she was with _them._ She definitely didn’t feel safe in the apartment. Caringly, her friends were able to make Betty forget about the terror that lay outside, and helped her get to sleep once more.

 

_Two Weeks Later_

 

Toni drove in the front seat with Betty next to her. Veronica and Cheryl were settled behind them. In the days since the incident, Betty had woken up screaming at least once per night. Because of this, Cheryl, Veronica, and Toni had begun to take shifts during the night to sleep on the couch closest to her door. After looking into some things, the three were now trying to get Betty a therapy dog, hoping it would help with Betty’s anxiety and nightmares.

 

The blonde was making progress, to say the least. Betty was no longer avoiding the whole household on a daily basis, and her bruises had disappeared. She didn’t jump anymore when a door shut, but alarms on phones were turned to calming ringtones (xylophones or other peaceful warnings) to avoid possible triggers. Her panic attacks changed from two or three per day to twice per week. There had still been sleepless nights.

 

Once Betty had felt comfortable to do so, all four of them packed all of their stuff and began to move into the Pembrooke, the apartment building owned by Hiram Lodge. That’s where the four best friends were headed now: to move into the Pembrooke for good.

 

“How’re ya feeling, Betty?” Toni asked.

 

“I feel... good today,” she replied with a slight smile. “Yeah... Good.”

 

“Great,” Toni chirped. “We’re almost there. We’ll drop our stuff, and then we can go pick up Hot Dog.” Betty smiled. She’d taken a liking to the white and grey fluffy sheepdog, who also doubled as a therapy dog.

 

“Can’t we change his name, though?” Cheryl asked from the backseat.

 

“He won’t respond to anything but Hot Dog. We tried,” Veronica piped in.

 

“I like it,” Betty replied. “It’s unique.”

 

“Love the dog, hate the name,” Cheryl said.

 

“Cher,” Toni warned.

 

“I’m just saying that he’s a lovely pup, but his name is pretty ridiculous.”

 

“I agree,” Veronica chimed in.

 

“See?!” Cheryl said.

 

“It _is_ pretty bad for a dog,” Betty added.

 

“Okay, fine,” Toni gave in. “It’s pretty weird.”

 

The pink-haired publicist pulled in front of the building and put the car in park.

 

“Here we are,” she said. They got out of the car, and Toni immediately handed the key to the valet.

 

“On the double, Dilton,” Veronica told the man.

 

“Yes, Miss Lodge.” A few seconds later and the car was gone to be sat in a parking deck.

 

“Wow,” Betty said, looking up at the tall building. She hadn’t been to see the Pembrooke (she hadn’t even left the house since the incident) and she was surprised at how tall it was. Veronica waltzed over to Betty and took her arm.

 

“You’re going to love it here, B.”

 

“Thanks for doing this, V.”

 

“No need,” she replied. “Most of this was my dad’s doing, but I’m his daughter so I get to reap the benefits.”

 

With a quick giggle from all of the girls, they walked inside. They found two men, about the same age as them, standing behind the front desk. They were both muscular and had kind faces. Dressed in identical black suits and ties with white shirts, one man’s hair was bright red, and the other’s was jet black.

 

“Welcome back, Miss Lodge,” The dark-haired man said.

 

“Thank you, Reginald,” Veronica said. “Ladies, this is Archibald Andrews and Reginald Mantle. They are the two main security for the lobby. Boys, this is Cheryl Blossom, Toni Topaz, and Betty Cooper, my roommates.”

 

“Welcome, Miss Blossom, Miss Topaz, and Miss Cooper, to the Pembrooke,” Archibald said. “Though Miss Lodge refuses to, you can call me Archie, and that’s Reggie.”

 

“Alright, let’s go get that apartment!” Veronica said enthusiastically. “Goodbye, boys!” she called, ushering her friends to the elevator, which opened for them immediately. Once the doors shut and the floor number was pressed, conversation resumed.

 

“Ronnie, you never told us the security here would be smoking hot,” Toni said. Cheryl elbowed her. “Hey, I have eyes. I’m allowed to see.”

 

“You’re only allowed to have eyes for me, TT,” Cheryl replied. “Though I will say that Toni has a point.” Before the bickering could start again, Veronica replied to them.

 

“They’ve been working for my father for a long time. They’re great at what they do.”

 

Betty looked at the elevator buttons and saw the single double-digit number lit up.

 

“Wait, our apartment is on the _fourteenth floor?!”_ Betty exclaimed.

 

“B, it’s not... _just_ some apartment,” Veronica said. The elevator stopped and the sliding doors opened to reveal not an apartment, but a penthouse. “It’s the finest the Pembrooke has to offer.” They stepped out of the elevator and into the space.

 

“A-A _penthouse?!”_

 

“... Yes.”

 

_“Veronica!”_

 

“My dad insisted! It’s probably the safest room here!”

 

“You literally pressed a button and got us up here. No key, no special code--”

 

“Archibald and Reginald have a button and keypad at their desk that allows only us and our guests up to the fourteenth floor,” Veronica replied. “It is perfectly safe and the both are hidden. If anyone tries to get in without the button _and_ keypad, it’s useless. The elevator won’t go anywhere.” Betty, still shocked at the elegance of it all, looked at Veronica. “I know you like modest things, B, but let yourself be spoiled for once. This place is so much nicer than that old building we were in, and it costs almost nothing. The price is modest. The amenities are not.”

 

“I don’t know, V...”

 

“This is probably the safest place in New York. He won’t be able to find you or get to you here.”

 

“Okay,” Betty sighed. “But if this place has housekeeping, I’m out.”

 

“Well...” Cheryl and Toni said together.

 

 _“You have got to be kidding me,”_ Betty groaned.

 

_In the Parking Garage_

 

His job was probably the most boring a job could get. All he had to do was wait for Dilton Doiley, the valet at the Pembrooke, to come with a car so that he could raise the gate. It was either Doiley, or Mr. Lodge, no one else. He would never complain about his job, though. He was paid extremely well to be sitting in a booth, waiting for the Doiley kid or Mr. Lodge while he read and wrote. He’d just picked up a new novel, one that he’d gotten from the bookshop.

 

Owning over half of the books provided in the store now, he’d picked up a book that didn’t really seem his style, but he’d been drawn to it for some reason. Why _Behind a Closed Door: What Being a Valedictorian is Actually Like_ would seem intriguing he would never know, but once he started, he couldn’t put it down. To find out that someone who was successful in high school had faced emotional and physical abuse from their parents because they weren’t ‘perfect’ really hit him. His relationship with his father had a large turn around when he was in high school.

 

After losing his mom and sister when they moved across state abruptly, his father changed his drunken act. He was surprised when his dad threw out all of his alcohol the next day, and gathered as many newspapers as he could, looking for jobs. His father sobered up and took working his three part-time jobs seriously. Once they were stable, his sister and mom came back to live with them. Things were better now, but he could still remember some of the worse days he had.

 

The book was really reaching into the depths of what it was like to have parents who had expectations that were larger than life. Even when the author had reached what her parents wanted, they wanted more, and more, and more. He didn’t know much about her, but he suddenly felt a sort of sympathy for her, as if he’d known or seen her before.

 

Her name was Elizabeth Cooper, a quite common name if you asked him, though his name was far from common. After his second re-read, he’d looked her up, and found that there wasn’t much online because she was young and new to the literary world. There was a single image of her, which was the same as the one on the cover of her book: she was a blonde with loose, wavy curls, green eyes, and a dazzling smile.

 

The book had been a bestseller within three weeks of its release. _Impressive,_ he’d thought. It’s as if she’d been JK Rowling and released another _Harry Potter_ novel.

 

The bio on the back of the book said she was a reporter for _The New York Times,_ which was prestigious by itself. Sometimes he wished he gone down that path instead of working in Hiram Lodge’s parking garage. He still couldn’t complain, though. He was paid way too much money for simply pressing a button every now and then.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, a car that he didn’t recognize pulled up to his booth. He set down _Behind Closed Doors_. The driver rolled the window down, revealing Dilton Doiley in his thick-rimmed glasses.

 

“Sup, Jughead?” He greeted.

 

“This one’s new,” Jughead replied.

 

“Yeah, Mr. Lodge’s daughter and her friends moved in for good today.”

 

“The ones taking the penthouse I’ve heard so much about?”

 

“Yup. There was Miss Lodge, a red-head, one with pink hair, and a blonde.”

 

“Interesting,” Jughead replied, clearly uninterested. He pressed the button and the gate lifted. Dilton drove inside as Jughead shut the window to the booth and picked up his book once more, falling back into Elizabeth Cooper’s literary depths.

 

_One Month Later_

 

Cheryl and Betty were out walking Hot Dog. The sheepdog had been living with the four women since the day they’d moved in. He was a good addition to the group of friends. He’d formed a bond with Betty almost immediately and stuck to her heels. This was a bond so strong and so important to Betty’s friends, which made Hot Dog irreplaceable.

 

Hot Dog was able to alert them to when Betty was about to have a panic attack, or when she was having a nightmare. He could tell when she was getting anxious, and would slip his soft head under her hand. He’d been a great source of comfort, not only for Betty, but for her friends as well.

 

Though Hot Dog was a service dog, he still served the purpose of a loyal and faithful companion, just as any dog would. It was odd, yes, for a sheepdog to be a service dog, but he did his job well and without fail. Hot Dog still liked fresh air, so here Betty and Cheryl were, walking him down the streets of New York.

 

“Hot Dog has friends at the NY Times?” Cheryl asked. Hot Dog went everywhere with Betty.

 

“They love him, Cher,” Betty replied. “Kevin nearly squealed when he saw him.”

 

“Have you let him touch Hot Dog yet?” Cheryl laughed. Other than the occasional pat on the head, Hot Dog wasn’t supposed to be distracted from taking care of Betty.

 

“Kevin has found that he loves a quick scratch behind the ears,” she said, smiling. As was normal, Betty was wearing her sunglasses. She’d been recognized countless times on the streets, and she had more encounters as her book stayed as a bestseller. She’d already met five on the street today, just walking Hot Dog. When they asked for pictures, she refused kindly, said goodbye, and continued walking.

 

Cheryl and Betty rounded the corner to walk down the street that the Pembrooke was on. Still laughing and conversing, they didn’t seem to realize what lay in front of them. That was, until Hot Dog tried to turn them around. Betty noticed that.

 

“So I said-- Ugh. Hot Dog, come _on!_ Dinner isn’t far now.”

 

Cheryl seemed to agree with Hot Dog on this one, and stopped.

 

“B,” she said simply.

 

“What is it?”

 

Cheryl pointed in front of them, and Betty set her sights down the street where there was a crowd of people.

 

“I’m sure they’re not in front of the Pembrooke, right?” Betty asked. “I mean... No one famous lives there.”

 

Cheryl cleared her throat and gave a look to her friend that said, _You know damn well you’re famous._

 

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not _that_ famous.”

 

“You’re a young bestseller. You do have fans.”

 

“They’re not here for me, Cher,” Betty insisted. “We can make it inside.”

 

“Hot Dog doesn’t like this, Bettykins. I say we ditch and let Dilton come pick us up or something. Reggie, or Archie, or Veronica. I don’t care.”

 

“We can make it through,” Betty kept saying.

 

“There’s a lot of people, B. Are you sure?”

 

“Yes. Let’s go.”

 

Cheryl sighed and looked at Hot Dog. He was attentive now, realizing that his owner was going through that crowd no matter how he protested. The usual happy-go-lucky expression on his face changed into a more serious one; a protective one. They were getting closer and closer to the crowd, who were taking up half of the sidewalk outside the glass doors of the building, and seemed to be waiting for someone to come outside. The blonde started to squeeze by the people between her and the door.

 

“Excuse me-- Sorry. Just gotta get through here please,” she said, almost on a loop. When they were under the canopy that hung over the entrance of the Pembrooke, Betty took off her sunglasses because it got too shady to be wearing them, and looked up, blinking once.

 

There he stood, pale, slender, with a greedy grin on his face and his dark, curly hair.

 

 _“You’ll never get away from me, cupcake,”_ he growled. _“You belong to me.”_

 

Her breath got caught in her throat, and she heard Hot Dog barking from beside her.

 

Betty choked out a single name: “Malachi.”

 

“Is that--”

 

“It can’t be!”

 

“Elizabeth Cooper!” One yelled. The crowd went berserk as Betty stood frozen to the spot at the sight of him. She blinked, and he vanished with the nasty smile she had come to hate and fear. Hot Dog began to bark, and the crowd was starting to close in on her.

 

“Betty, we need to go,” Cheryl added from behind her. Betty couldn’t think. Her head was clouded now.

 

_“You’re mine.”_

 

_“You belong to me, cupcake.”_

 

Fans were reaching in, trying to get her attention. One grabbed her arm, and Hot Dog jumped up and bit them. This all occurred without Betty’s notice. She was still frozen.

 

“Betty, go!” Cheryl yelled, trying to get her to move forward.

 

Lucky for them, Archie and Reggie burst through the entrance to the Pembrooke, getting the crowd to clear around them. Archie took care of shooing the crowd, and Reggie grabbed Betty to pull her inside.

 

When the blonde looked up at who was ushering her inside, she panicked. As he pulled her through the doors, she screamed and kicked him in the chest, falling out of his arms and onto the tile of the lobby. Cheryl immediately ran to her side.

 

“I-I’m sorry,” Reggie stuttered as Archie locked the doors behind them.

 

“Thank you for taking care of those idiots,” Cheryl told them. She looked back at Betty. Hot Dog had parked himself on Betty’s other side, his fluffy head resting on her knee.

 

When the blonde’s eyes glazed over Reggie, she winced and tried to hide herself in Cheryl’s shoulder. The red-headed woman looked at Reggie, and realized what happened.

 

“That wasn’t him, Betty,” she said. “That wasn’t him.”

 

“Who wasn’t him?” Archie asked. He looked at Reggie, who shrugged. The doormen were close with the only people that lived on the fourteenth floor because there was high security involved in those apartments. Being around the same age as the four women, they’d invited Archie and Reggie up for drinks a few times on their nights off. They were pretty close, but not close enough to know what had happened with Betty.

 

“Reg... I’m sorry, but you just... You look like her ex.”

 

“Oh,” he sighed. “I’m sorry, again.”

 

“She probably just glanced over you and couldn’t tell the difference for a moment. It’s not your fault. Truly,” Cheryl explained. She turned to Betty again. “Let’s get you back to our apartment, B.” Betty nodded through her tear-stained cheeks and glossy eyes. Cheryl helped her up, they said goodbye to Reggie and Archie, and got in the elevator, pressing the button for the fourteenth floor.

 

_Two Hours Later_

 

“I am _never_ leaving this apartment again,” Betty said after her second Jack and Coke.

 

“Okay, that’s enough for you,” Toni replied, taking the glass from Betty’s grip. She forgot how much of a lightweight Betty was in terms of drinking.

 

“I just embarrassed myself on an indefinite level. I kicked Reggie, I flipped out in front of my fans, Hot Dog apparently _bit one._ There’s no coming back from this.”

 

“That’s what you said the first time,” Veronica added, getting off the couch with her phone held to her ear and running into her room as she greeted the person on the other line.

 

“I’ll work from home. All of my writing is done on the internet anyways,” Betty said.

 

“You’re not working here. You’re going to the NY Times like you do every day,” Toni told her.

 

“And what if there’s another crowd when I come home from work? T, this was supposed to be my day off.” Toni placed a glass of water in front of Betty.

 

“Ronnie and I talked while you were sulking in your room from what you did to Reggie. We may or may not have a solution, and we may or may not be trying to work it out.”

 

“Why can’t I just stay here?” Betty asked, slumping against the counter.

 

“B,” Toni said.

 

“Toniiiiiii,” Betty replied, muffled into the countertop.

 

“You are one of the strongest people I know, Betty. You will recover from this. It’s a minor inconvenience.”

 

“More like, I took one look at Reggie, thought it was _him_ and decided that then would be a good time to kick him so that he let go of me.”

 

“Yeah, well, we’re still working on our idea. If it doesn’t work, then you can wallow in misery while enjoying the solitude of this apartment during the day,” Toni replied. “We’re trying everything we can to make this better for you, B. Can you take us up on the offer?”

 

Betty slowly peeled her head from the counter to look up at her pink-haired friend.

 

“Okay. Only because I trust all three of you.”

 

“Thanks, Betty,” Toni replied. “I think this one will really work out well. Veronica thinks so too.”

 

“For the love of all things good, I hope you’re right, Toni.”

 

From behind Betty, a door opened. She turned to see Veronica with a smile on her face. She waltzed towards her friends with her phone still in her hand.

 

“Good news!” Veronica chirped. “My father is going to look into the proposition and see what he can do for us, but mostly for you, Betty.” She placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder gently.

 

“Thanks, Ronnie,” Betty replied.

 

“No problem. You do so much for everyone else that helping is the least we can do,” Veronica said, remembering how Betty insisted on cleaning the apartment when Mr. Lodge had maids for the penthouse they stayed in. “We hate seeing you in pain, B. We’re here to help in whatever way we can.”

 

Betty smiled, meeting Veronica and Toni in a hug.

 

**\---**

 

His phone rang as he had his nose in a book. Caught off-guard by the incessant ringing, Jughead almost fell back and out of his chair. He quickly slammed the chair legs forward and threw the book down on the counter. Almost face-planting next to his phone, Jughead picked up the device, and after seeing the caller ID, answered.

 

“This is Jughead Jones,” he said.

 

_“Jughead. Good. Just the man I was looking for.”_

 

“How can I help you, Mr. Lodge?”

 

_“I have a large favor to ask of you, Jones. How would you like to get out of that parking deck booth and get away from working the nightshift in the Pembrooke lobby?”_

 

“I’m listening, sir.”

 

_“I know that you trained in my security academy with Andrews and Mantle, but when they were given the choice you were stuck with the booth job.”_

 

“Yes, sir. That is correct.”

 

_“My daughter has a roommate, who also happens to be her client. Veronica is a literary agent for said roommate.”_

 

“I see, sir.”

 

_“Yes. Her friend has become quite popular in the literary world, and she now needs some help staying out of the grasp of other people, if you can understand that.”_

 

“She needs a bodyguard, sir?”

 

_“Precisely.”_

 

“And you’re offering this position to me of all people?”

 

_“Andrews and Mantle are some of the best doormen I’ve had and I need them to stay where they are. I’ve heard of your capabilities, Jones. You were very close behind Mantle and Andrews. And all three of you are friends, so I can only imagine the competitiveness there.”_

 

“Yes, sir. Quite competitive with them there as well.”

 

_“But you’re a bit more sensible where they can be hot-headed, yes?”_

 

“You would be right, sir.”

 

_“You now see why I called you instead of Andrews?”_

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

_“Good. Now I need to know, will you take the position?”_

 

“I’d be honored, sir.”

 

_“Good to hear, Jones. I’ll introduce you tomorrow.”_

 

“Might I know her name, sir?” Jughead asked out of curiosity.

 

 _“Why not. Her name is Elizabeth Cooper.”_ Jughead almost fell out of his chair again. _“Anyways, I’ll meet you tomorrow. 10 AM, sharp, in the lobby of the Pembrooke. I’ll transfer some money into your bank account immediately so that you can go and get some suits.”_

 

“Suits, sir?” Jughead asked. His regular uniform was a black polo and khakis.

 

_“Now that you’re front and center with my name attached to you, you have to look the part. You don’t see Mantle and Andrews showing up to my lobby with polos on.”_

 

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

 

_“I’ll get you the name of my tailor. He’ll make sure you have a suit, tie, and the works ready to go for tomorrow at the latest. You should go immediately after I send you his name.”_

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

_“10 AM. Sharp, Jones. In a proper suit.”_

 

“I understand, sir.”

 

_“Good. See you tomorrow, Jones.”_

 

Mr. Lodge hung up the phone, and Jughead was still in shock. He looked down at the book. It had once seemed so simple.

 

**_Behind a Closed Door: What Being a Valedictorian is Actually Like_ **

 

**A Memoir by Elizabeth Cooper**

 

He was going to meet her tomorrow. That was, of course, after going shopping on Hiram Lodge’s dollar.

 

_9 AM, the next morning_

 

Betty was greeted with her door opening, Cheryl’s voice and the sound of Veronica’s heels against the hardwood resonating in the room. Hot Dog was nudging her hand with his nose, trying to wake her up gently. Veronica and Cheryl got there first.

 

“Oh, Bettykins!” Cheryl called. “Wakey wakey! I need you up so I can get you dressed.

On the double!”

 

With a groan, Betty rolled over, pressing her face into her pillow. Veronica sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, then looked back up at the blonde in the bed. Hot Dog scooted up and threw Betty’s arm over his head by making use of his snout. He worked his way further under her elbow and started to lick her face gently.

 

“Uuuuuuuugh. Hot Dogggggggg,” Betty said, muffled into the pillow.

 

“You get her, HD,” Veronica encouraged.

 

“Not you too, V,” Betty added groggily, turning her face away from the therapy dog.

 

“Suck it up, B. I have two people you’re going to meet today, and they’ll be here at 10 AM. Sharp, I might add. You need to get yourself out of bed and let your stylist do her job.”

 

“Do I truly need a stylist for an audience of two people?”

 

“One of them is my father and the other is--”

 

Betty unwrapped herself from her covers and Hot Dog, climbing out of bed very ungracefully.

 

“Okay, let's do this.”

 

“B, you already know my dad.”

 

“And you know that your dad might as well be mine, Ron,” Betty replied.

 

She was right. When they went to college together, Betty had met Hiram multiple times. He was a kind, hospitable, rich man who was always willing to have Betty in his home. She was a guest of Veronica, and Betty fit in naturally. Hiram had been in the room when Betty told Veronica that she wanted to write the book about her high school and college years after having the final blow with her parents. Betty had lived with Veronica and Hiram for a few months over one summer: the summer before they met Cheryl and Toni.

 

“Can’t I just be excited to see him?”

 

“I can’t argue with that, Coop,” Veronica replied, turning to the ginger stylist waiting for her cue. “She’s all yours, Cher.”

 

**\---**

 

Hiram Lodge had told him 10 AM, sharp. Jughead got there at 9:45 AM.

 

He’d been with Mr. Lodge’s tailor for about two hours that night after he got the address and name. It had been the longest two hours of his life, standing in front of the mirror as the man took measurements over and over again, making sure he got them right. The tailor, Smithers, made sure that he had two suits before he left. Both were midnight black, and Smithers had also secured him crisp, white button-down shirts that had French cuffs, a black tie, socks, shoes, and cufflinks.

 

Jughead had made sure to shave that morning before he began to get dressed, and found that the suits were luxury. He wasn’t surprised that Hiram Lodge was fitted into luxury suits, he was more surprised that he now owned two luxury suits, with more on the way. He walked into the Pembrooke lobby looking exactly like Reginald and Archibald. They were surprised to see him.

 

“Jughead?” Archie had asked.

 

“Arch, Reg,” he said, straightening his black silk tie.

 

“What are you doing here? I thought you worked in the parking deck,” Reggie added.

 

“Mr. Lodge has a new job for me.”

 

“Congrats, man,” Archie beamed, giving him a slug to the shoulder.

 

“So what is it?” Reggie asked.

 

“Not sure I can tell you, Reggie. He’ll be here soon, though.”

 

“That’s cool, Jug. Will we get to see you more often now?”

 

“Probably every day,” Jughead replied. “I really don’t know. It depends.”

 

“This is quite the upgrade,” Reggie added. “You’re in suits now. Let me guess. Smithers?”

 

“Yeah, actually.”

 

“That’s where he sent us too,” Archie explained.

 

From where he was standing, Jughead watched as a black Cadillac pulled up outside. The valet opened the back door, and out stepped Hiram Lodge in his own suit. Reggie ran over to the glass door and held it open for the man.

 

“Thank you, Mantle,” Hiram said, stepping inside. Reggie nodded curtly and shut the door behind him. “Good morning, Andrews.” Archie nodded, too. “Jones. Just the man I was looking for. Smithers did a good job, I see. No?”

 

“Yes, sir. He was wonderful.”

 

“Good. That means he still has his charm.” He turned away from Jughead for a moment, looking at Archie and Reggie. “Fourteenth floor, gentlemen. If you would.”

 

Jughead watched as the elevator doors opened in front of them. He let Mr. Lodge in first, then followed behind. Hiram pressed the button, it lit up, and then the doors closed once more. The ride up was smooth. Jughead could barely tell that they were moving.

 

“I trust you remember your training at my academy on being a personal bodyguard, Jones.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Jughead replied.

 

“Good. I’ll do the talking, but I suggest you have a conversation with Miss Cooper once I’m gone so that she can warm up to you.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“I also brought some items you may need,” Mr. Lodge said. “You can pick up your security belt from Andrews and Mantle at the front desk, but there are a few things you will have that they won’t. An earpiece that connects to Andrews and Mantle at the front desk.” Hiram placed the clear piece in his hand. “Your authorized, polarized, sunglasses for outer use only.” Jughead slid them into his coat pocket. “And a company phone. You never know when you will need it.” Jughead slid that into his pants pocket.

 

“Thank you, sir,” Jughead replied, now beginning to attach the earpiece.

 

“I am just supplying the items you need to be successful,” Hiram added. “Your duty here is to protect Miss Cooper and her staff at all costs. They all live together on floor fourteen, the penthouse floor. They should have a spare room that you will move into--”

 

“Excuse me, sir, but _move in?”_ Jughead asked. “Isn’t that a little much, sir?”

 

“There’s no door to guard. The elevator opens right into the penthouse. I will need you to be living here. With them. I am sure they will grant you all of the personal space that you desire. Anyways, Andrews and Mantle control who can come in here from the front desk. I will add you onto the list as well and tell them to teach you how to work the mechanism.” Hiram paused. “You will move in tomorrow, unless there is a conflict. Understood?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Good. Here we are,” Mr. Lodge concluded. The doors slid open, and Jughead followed Hiram out of the elevator, the doors closing behind them.

 

When they stepped off, there were four women sitting in the living area of the beautiful penthouse. There was a raven-haired woman, who Jughead assumed was Veronica Lodge, a red-head, a pink-haired woman, and a blonde. She was sitting next to a fluffy, white sheepdog.

 

When he laid eyes on the blonde, she looked up at him, and her face dropped. He immediately recognized her from the back of her book cover, except now, she was borderline shocked. Jughead hated seeing the light fade from her eyes so quickly. The dog next to her let out a high-pitched whine, directing the other women’s attentions to the blonde.

 

“B?” The pink-haired woman asked. The blonde’s mouth hung open momentarily, then she got up and ran out of the room, closing a door behind her. The dog, who had desperately tied to stick to the woman’s heels, was stuck outside the door, whining and sniffing through the crack. The attentions of the women focused on him.

 

“I-I’m sor—“

 

“Oh, gosh,” the ginger said as she looked him over. “This isn’t your fault.”


	2. uncomfortable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uncomfortable: a feeling of unease or awkwardness

“I’ll go get her,” the raven-haired woman said. She stood and went to the door the blonde had disappeared behind. She let the dog in with her, and he scampered inside the room. In the meantime, the red and pink-haired women stood and approached the only men in the room. 

 

“Good morning, Mr. Lodge,” the pink-haired one said. The ginger smiled politely to both of them before Mr. Lodge spoke up. 

 

“Cheryl, Antoinette, this is Forsythe Jones. Forsythe, this is Cheryl Blossom and Antoinette Topaz, Elizabeth’s stylist and publicist, and of course, her roommates.” 

 

“Hi. Very nice to meet you both,” Jughead said, shaking their hands. “I’m sorry if I scared off...” 

 

“Elizabeth,” Antoinette completed his train of thought. 

 

“Yes. Elizabeth,” Jughead replied. “I’m sorry that I scared her away.” 

 

“It’s really not your fault,” Cheryl added. “I’m sure she’ll like you once she warms up to you.” Jughead nodded. 

 

“If you ladies will excuse me,” Hiram began, checking his watch. “I have a meeting to get to. Forsythe will be moving into your guest room tomorrow, as I am sure that Veronica has discussed with you.” 

 

“Yes, she has,” Antoinette replied. 

 

“Very well. If you have any problems--” 

 

“We’ll call,” Cheryl finished for him. 

 

“Alright. Give my love to Veronica and Elizabeth.” Hiram called the elevator, it opened, and he stepped inside, the doors closing behind him. 

 

“Before this really starts, please don’t call me Forsythe. I prefer Jughead.” 

 

“Jug-head?” Cheryl asked. 

 

“It’s better than Forsythe, believe me.” 

 

“Well if we’re doing nicknames, don’t call me Antoinette. It’s Toni.” 

 

“Deal,” Jughead added, shaking Toni’s hand in their agreement. “So... Did I do something to scare off Elizabeth or--” 

 

“Um... Simply stated... You kind of look like her ex,” Cheryl said. “If she wants you to know more, she will tell you herself.” 

 

“What about me looks like her ex?” Jughead asked. “Am I allowed to know that?” 

 

“It’s the hair,” Toni said. “It’s really dark.” 

 

“The texture is different, though,” Cheryl clarified. “I think it just caught her off guard.” 

 

“Oh. Okay,” Jughead said. “Well, I’m sorry that there’s some bad experiences between them. Elizabeth seems really nice.” 

 

“She’s an angel,” Cheryl replied. “I think she’ll like you, Jughead.” 

 

“I hope you’re right.” 

 

**\---**

 

“Betty--” 

 

“He looks like Malachi. Veronica,  _ why?” _

 

“Okay, his hair looks the same. That’s it. That man is not Malachi Gonzalez. If anything he will  _ protect you _ from Malachi. He was hired by my father and has been on his security force for the past four years. That’s  _ college _ for us. He’s been working for my father since we started  _ college.  _ You know how long college took.” 

 

“Forever,” Betty groaned, remembering Riverdale University.

 

“Exactly. So can you at least meet him first?” Veronica asked. “Give this a chance, B.” 

 

“Okay. Fine. I’ll meet him.” 

 

“Thank you,” Veronica said. She and Betty walked towards the door, Hot Dog staying at Betty’s ankles. The raven-haired woman opened the door, letting the blonde and the sheepdog out first before closing the door behind her. 

 

Watching the white sheepdog, Betty saw him trot over to the tall stranger, beginning to sniff him. The man just let Hot Dog do his thing, looking down at him curiously before seeing that he was harmless. Betty watched Hot Dog sit down next to his feet. He wagged his tail across the hardwood, staring at Betty.

 

Betty looked up from the sheepdog and saw the man standing there, his wavy, dark hair sitting on his head. He was slender, but she could see the bulge of his muscles through his suit. More than anything, though, Betty saw his eyes: a cool, stormy blue. They sent a shiver down her spine and she felt a comfort in his gaze. She was infatuated with the blue of his eyes. Only the sound of her best friend’s voice was able to grasp her attention again.

 

“Did my dad leave?” Veronica asked. 

 

“He had a meeting,” Cheryl explained. “He wanted to stay longer, but he couldn’t.” 

 

“Very well then,” Veronica replied, walking towards the group behind Betty and Hot Dog. She approached the man and shook his hand. “Forsythe Jones, right?” 

 

“It’s Jughead. Please,” He said. His voice and face were kind, and Betty thought she’d heard it before. She couldn’t pinpoint it. 

 

“Veronica Lodge.” 

 

“I’ve heard about you from your father. All good of course,” Jughead replied. “And you’re Elizabeth Cooper.” He was looking at the blonde. 

 

“How did you know?” Betty asked.

 

“I’ve read your book. It’s very good,” Jughead said kindly. 

 

“You’ve read my book?” Betty asked, almost surprised. 

 

“It’s only one of the best memoirs I’ve ever read,” Jughead replied, smiling. “I almost fell out of my chair when Mr. Lodge called me to ask if I would take this job for you.” 

 

Betty stifled a laugh and smiled. 

 

“That wasn’t a joke, but I’m glad you find that funny, Miss Cooper,” Jughead told her. 

 

“It’s Betty. Call me Betty.” 

 

_ What am I doing, letting him in? I barely know him! _ Betty thought. Before she could take it back, Jughead responded. 

 

“Well,  _ Betty. _ It’ll be my honor to work with you.” 

 

**\---**

 

Even though their first meeting seemed promising, Betty tried and failed to warm up to Jughead’s presence in the apartment. The day after he walked into the women’s lives, Jughead was moving in with all of his stuff, into their guest room. She’d watched the elevator doors open while she was eating breakfast. In a split second, Betty thought it was Malachi again, and ran inside her room. 

 

When Cheryl came in to get Betty, she explained that he wanted to apologize again, so she left the safety of her room to go and see him. 

 

“I’m sorry for whatever bad experience you’ve had involving a terrible guy with dark hair,” He said. “I didn’t mean to scare you again.” His cool blue eyes calmed her down enough to respond. 

 

“It’s not your fault, Jughead,” she replied. “It’s really not.” 

 

That same morning, she saw him out of the corner of her eye and jumped half a foot into the air. She sighed and calmed down when she realized it was just him again. 

 

_ How long is this going to last? _ Betty asked herself. She felt bad because Jughead seemed really nice. The fact that he’d already apologized for an experience she had, and he knew nothing about, spoke a lot for his character. He was obviously a good person, and Betty felt bad that her brain was confusing him for Malachi when they were two completely different people. 

 

He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans until Betty went to change for work. When she came out in her normal work attire of a nice sweater over a button-up shirt and jeans, he was wearing the same suit he’d worn the day they met. He was attaching his cufflinks when she emerged. Betty thought he was quite attractive, but knew she was much too uncomfortable to even think about making a move on him. He turned to face her when he heard Betty’s door close and Hot Dog let out a yawn. 

 

“Where are we headed, Miss Cooper?” Jughead asked, already knowing the answer from reading her book and its mini biography. 

 

“Why can’t you call me Betty?” she replied. 

 

“I was just teasing,” Jughead said. “But seriously, where are we headed?” 

 

_ “The New York Times.” _

 

“I should have known, with your quality of writing,” Jughead complimented. Betty looked at her feet and muttered a thank you, knowing that her face was flushing red. 

 

“Shall we?” Jughead asked. Betty nodded. He called up the elevator, and they both stepped inside with Hot Dog. Jughead pressed the button for the lobby. Betty watched curiously as Jughead took out something from his pocket, inserted it in his ear, and switched it on. He held down a button on the clear device and spoke into it. 

 

“Crown to Paladin and Bulldog,” he said. Jughead paused and waited before speaking again. “I have the Enigma. We’re headed to  _ The Times. _ We’ll be in the lobby shortly.” He paused again. “Call up the car.” 

 

“Wait,” Betty said, removing Jughead’s hand from his earpiece. “I walk to work.” 

 

“All due respect, Betty, that isn’t as safe as the car.” 

 

“It’s right around the corner. There’s no need to waste gas when it’s a block away. And Hot Dog likes the fresh air.” 

 

Jughead sighed and held his hand to the earpiece once more, giving in to the adorable sheepdog on her opposite side. 

 

“Cancel the car, Paladin. We’ll be walking.” He paused. “It’s around the corner. I’ll contact you if we have problems... 10-4.” He removed his hand once more and looked at her. “His name is  _ Hot Dog?” _

 

“You really can’t talk,  _ Jughead,” _ she quipped. 

 

“Fair enough.” 

 

“We tried other names, but they didn’t stick.” 

 

“I see.” 

 

They were silent the rest of the way down. Even when the doors opened, both of them stayed quiet. On their way out, not wanting to break the mutual awkward silence, Jughead simply waved to Archie and Reggie behind the desk. They nodded in his direction as Jughead, Betty, and Hot Dog left through the front door. 

 

The walk to  _ The New York Times _ was short, just as Betty said. Neither of them said a word to each other the whole way. Jughead drifted back, sensing Betty’s reservations towards him. He watched as she kept a firm grip on Hot Dog’s leash, put on a pair of sunglasses, and plugged in her earbuds. Every time they would pass someone, Betty would stiffen slightly and Hot Dog would come closer to her. He could tell that Betty held her head up higher when he was in the background, naturally tailing her. 

 

She only took off her sunglasses when they approached the building. She clocked in at the door, then he followed her to her office. When they entered, there was already a man inside in a sweater and jeans, typing away on a computer. He had brown hair and crystal blue eyes, and immediately lit up when Betty and Hot Dog entered the room. 

 

“Well if it isn’t our Hitchcock Blonde and— oh. Who’s this?” Without looking up and rounding her desk to sit down, Betty answered. 

 

“Kev, this is Jughead Jones. Jughead, meet Kevin Keller. We work together on a column, so our offices were combined.” 

 

“I’m more than just a  _ co-column writer _ to you, Elizabeth,” Kevin sassed as he stood to shake Jughead’s hand. 

 

“He’s also my gay best friend in the building,” Betty added, rolling her eyes as she detached Hot Dog’s leash. “You’re so extra, Kev. How do I deal with you?” 

 

“You love me, that’s how,” Kevin quipped. He turned to Jughead, saying it was nice to meet him, and Jughead reciprocated. “So what’s your business here, Jughead?” 

 

“I’m Betty’s bodyguard,” he said swiftly. Jughead looked at the blonde and saw her nose already in her work, ignoring the situation in front of her. She shifted in her chair slightly at the mention of a bodyguard. He could tell she wasn’t at all comfortable with his presence. 

 

“Ooh,” Kevin said, spinning around to Betty. “Famous enough for  _ personal security, _ now, are we, Elizabeth?” Betty didn’t look up, but threw a piece of paper at Kevin, hitting him in the middle of the forehead. He laughed it off. “I guess the crowds are getting worse, huh?” He asked seriously. 

 

“Yeah,” she replied softly, eyes glued to her work. “Can you come help me finish the column for this week?” 

 

“Yeah, just a second,” Kevin replied. He faced Jughead. “If you’re gay and you ever get a night off—“

 

_ “Kevin.” _

 

“Betty, you’re such a cockblocker, you know that?” Kevin asked, throwing himself in his office chair. 

 

“I don’t want McCoy or McCoy Junior coming and attacking us because it’s not done,” Betty said as Jughead settled himself in an armchair that faced them. He could see Hot Dog curled up in a bed near the corner, watching patiently. 

 

All day, Kevin and Betty typed, typed, typed, only stopping to talk a few times. Sometimes they would scribble something down, but they would always go back to writing. Jughead remembered the dream he once had to go to college and pursue his writing, but he wasn’t able to afford that kind of education, and he went to the Lodge Security Academy instead. Now he was making a good buck for protecting one of the prettiest blondes he’d ever seen. 

 

Kevin stopped after a few hours and whispered something to Betty. Jughead checked his watch and saw it was almost noon. Kevin was about to leave when he stopped right in front of Jughead. 

 

“I was about to go get lunch from Pop’s for Betty and I. Would you like anything?” 

 

“Oh.” Jughead was caught off guard by Kevin’s kindness. “A double cheeseburger, an order of fries, and a chocolate milkshake would be great. Should I—“ he started reaching for his wallet. 

 

“First meal’s on me,” Kevin said, pushing Jughead’s hand away. “Don’t worry about it.” 

 

“Thanks,” Jughead replied. 

 

“No problem.” And then he was gone. Jughead looked to Betty. Her eyes were still glued to her work. Trying to ease the awkwardness, he spoke up. 

 

“Kevin is really nice,” Jughead said. 

 

“Yeah. He’s great,” Betty mumbled politely. 

 

“Do you ever... Take a break from your work?” Jughead asked delicately. 

 

“Yeah. For lunch.” 

 

“It might as well be lunchtime,” Jughead suggested, glancing at his watch. She finally looked away from her computer and looked at him, daggers seeming to come out of her eyes. 

 

“I know what you’re trying to do,” she said to him. 

 

“What am I trying to do?” 

 

“You’re trying to ease this tension between us.” 

 

“Yeah... Sorta.” 

 

“Let the tension happen, Jughead. It will be over when I’m ready for it to be over.” She’d said it bluntly, then looked back at her computer screen. 

 

Jughead didn’t push any further. Betty had made her intentions clear. If this arrangement was to continue, Jughead would have to shut up and let her speak when she was ready. He didn’t know when  _ ready _ would be, but he hoped it was soon, because he found her intriguing. 

 

There were a lot of unknowns about Betty Cooper from Jughead’s perspective. He knew of the strained relationship with her parents from reading her book, and he knew she was an all-A student and valedictorian in high school. He knew that she ran for the hills when she could finally go to college, eager to get away from her family. He knew that her best friends were the people that she worked with, and they all seemed to adore her. 

 

Everything else was a mystery. Jughead didn’t know what had caused Veronica Lodge to call her father, asking for a bodyguard for her best friend. He didn’t know what had happened to her to make her so cold towards him. He knew it wasn’t his fault she was acting this way, but still. Something bad had occurred, involving a man with dark hair, like his own. Though he had no idea what it was, it was obvious that something had violated Betty’s security, and it wasn’t just the growing crowds of fans. 

 

He started to wonder what it could have been. He remembered another young woman’s security being violated by a dark-haired man. He’d passed her, then seen the other man following close behind. He cut off his music flowing to his headphones, but kept walking. He remembered stopping cold in his tracks when he heard the sound of someone hitting garbage cans out of the way. He turned around to see a sidewalk without the young woman and the person following behind her. 

 

In a rush of adrenaline, Jughead had run down a dark alleyway, where he sensed the noise was coming from. Having a running start, he could see the silhouette of the man and woman he’d passed. She was putting up a fight. The guy was holding down the woman, and Jughead quickly realized what was happening. Having a fit of rage, Jughead lowered himself to the ground and found the strength to tackle the man to the ground, far from the woman. 

 

She started coughing and wheezing as Jughead punched the man’s face senseless. He turned his head and saw the woman tossing and turning on the ground, continuing to cough and hack. 

 

“Run!” He’d exclaimed as he kept holding the guy down, hoping she could hear him. “Go!” 

 

Jughead watched her find her strength, get up, and run out of the alley, turning to just keep running. Her strength had obviously been weakened by the encounter as she almost tripped multiple times. Out of curiosity, Jughead got off of the man he’d just tackled and ran back to the street. He looked around once he was under the streetlights once more, but she’d vanished. 

 

Jughead didn’t know who he’d punched and tackled nor the woman he’d protected, but he couldn’t get the encounter off of his mind for weeks. Why it was coming back to him now, he had no clue. It had been an intense, adrenaline-filled experience that he hoped he would never have to relive, because rapists were bad news and they’re terrible people. 

 

He didn’t know what had truly brought him into fighting a fight that was not his own that night. Either way, it made Jughead feel better to know that the woman, whoever she was, had been able to get away. 

 

But now that he thought about it, Jughead was possibly looking at someone who  _ hadn’t  _ gotten away. 

 

**\---**

 

Kevin came back with Pop’s, along with the promise that “You’re paying your way from now on, Jones.” 

 

The rest of the day passed easily, Betty barely acknowledging him. The only time she spoke to him that afternoon was right before they headed outside to go back to the Pembrooke. She took a glance out the window, her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened. Hot Dog whined. 

 

“I-- I can’t...” she muttered, now moving away from the door. 

 

“W-What is it?” He asked. She pointed to the window, and he saw what she was talking about. There was a medium-sized crowd waiting for her to come out, some held cameras and others held copies of her book along with a pen. 

 

“I’m calling the car,” he said quickly, pressing a finger to the earpiece. “Crown to Paladin and Bulldog.” 

 

_ “This is Paladin. What’s going on?” _

 

“We need the car. There’s a crowd outside  _ The Times _ waiting for the Enigma.” 

 

_ “Bulldog and I are on our way now. We’ll be five minutes.”  _

 

“10-4.” 

 

He glanced back at the blonde, who was pacing nervously, curling her nails into her palms. Hot Dog was whimpering, watching. He barked suddenly and Betty stopped to look at the sheepdog. As if he did it with his eyes, Hot Dog pulled Betty towards him. She stopped and crouched to rub his head. The dog simply licked her face until she laughed. 

 

“Good boy,” she muttered. With one more pat, Betty stood up again and looked at Jughead. 

 

“All good?” He asked. 

 

“Yeah. I am now.” 

 

“Archie and Reggie are coming to get us in the car because of the crowd. I’ll need you to stay close to me. Can you do that?” 

 

Betty sighed heavily, looking down at the ground. 

 

“If it’s too much for you, Archie can be the one you stay close to, but I can assure you that I will do all I can to protect you.” 

 

“N-No,” she replied. “I’ll go with you.” 

 

“You’re sure?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

Jughead glanced out the window and saw two men running up the steps and to the door, wearing suits identical to him. He let the ginger and dark-haired men inside, then let the door close again. 

 

“It’s pretty bad out there, but we should be able to make it,” Archie said. 

 

“I’ll take the lead,” Jughead added. 

 

“We’ll cover the back,” Reggie replied. Jughead nodded and looked at the blonde. 

 

“You ready, Betty?” He asked. She nodded. Jughead extended his arm. “Hold on tight, Cooper.” 

 

“You want me to hold your hand?” Betty asked, almost outraged. 

 

“Or my sleeve or my arm. Whichever you’re most comfortable with.” She looked at him quizzically. “I don’t care what you do, but I need you to hold onto me.” 

 

Realizing she had no way of escaping her fate now, Betty held Jughead’s suit sleeve with one hand and Hot Dog’s leash with the other. They made eye contact for only a moment, stormy blue connecting with meadow green. The look in her eyes said  _ I’ll trust you, even if only for this moment in time. _

 

“Okay,” Jughead said finally. “Let’s go.” 

 

Reggie pushed the door open and held it for Jughead, Betty, Hot Dog, and Archie, then joined his red-haired counterpart. Betty’s grip on Jughead’s sleeve tightened as they stepped outside. She kept her face buried in the back of his suit jacket and her eyes clamped shut. 

 

Betty blocked out the sound of the cheering crowd, asking for pictures and autographs. She concentrated on pushing the noise out so hard that ringing began to settle in her ears. She could hear the muffled sounds of the people, but didn’t hear what they were saying. She could barely register the sound of Archie, Reggie, and Jughead communicating to each other and to the crowd. 

 

Archie and Reggie kept the people away from the car door Betty was to get in, and she felt a hand on her shoulder. Shocked, she opened her eyes to see Jughead ushering her around him so that she could get in the car. She made eye contact with him again. 

 

“Go ahead, Betty,” he told her, cutting through the ringing in her ears. She was able to get inside the car quickly, Hot Dog leaping onto the seat behind her, and Jughead getting in after the sheepdog and closing the door behind him. Archie soon got into the passenger seat, and Reggie ran around the front to the driver’s side. 

 

“Hold on tight,” Reggie told them. 

 

“Wait--” Jughead began, but Reggie went ahead and hit the gas hard. Jughead reflexively threw his arm across the front of Betty’s shoulders, pushing her back onto the seat and keeping her there as they settled into Reggie’s speed. Hot Dog slipped his head under one of Betty’s hands without her notice.

 

“Sorry,” he told her, removing his arm quickly after. “Reggie used to road race back in Seaside. Just an instinct.” 

 

“Thanks,” she replied, mindlessly running her fingers in Hot Dog’s fur. 

 

“Are you okay? That crowd was a bit rough.” 

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  She turned to look out the window now, seeing as Reggie was now barely over the speed limit. 

 

No one said anything else for the rest of the two minutes they were all in the car. Jughead and Archie got out first, the raven-haired man running around to Betty’s side of the car and the ginger running inside to take over from whoever had been forced onto his shift. Jughead opened the door, offering his hand to the blonde. She took it wordlessly and without looking at him, then retracted her hand almost immediately after. 

 

He thought he felt something odd on the inside of her palm, but he wasn’t sure. Either way, he was distracted from that when Hot Dog jumped out behind her. Jughead then shut the door and Reggie zoomed off to go park the car in the Pembrooke’s garage. 

 

Betty began to make her way inside with Hot Dog, so Jughead caught up with her in time to hold the door open. She nodded silently to him, which he took as a thank you. When they stepped inside the lobby, Archie was sitting at the security desk. 

 

“I already punched you in. You’re good to go up,” he said. 

 

“Thanks, Archie,” Betty replied, calling the elevator. Jughead and Archie exchanged a brief wave as the doors opened and the raven-haired man and blonde woman stepped inside the elevator. Betty pressed the button after the doors closed, and they started to move up. 

 

_ Come on, Jughead, _ he said to himself. 

 

“I just want to say,” he began, turning slightly towards her. “I’m sorry. For— For trying to pry earlier.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously and watched as her green eyes latched onto his. “It’s not my place... I don’t know a lot about you besides what you wrote in your book—which I know sounds creepy and intrusive— but I don’t want this interaction to be awkward. I think you’re pretty awesome to oust your parents and shove it in their face by becoming a bestselling author.” Betty stifled a laugh, but kept a straight face. “I know a thing or two about bad parents, though I got lucky and mine were able to turn it around in the end. It’s hard, living like that.” Betty nodded subtly. “And friends are important in those times. Yours adore you.” The blonde looked down at her feet, flushing madly. “They told me themselves. You must have done  _ something right _ to get where you are now, and for some reason or another that I can’t explain, I want to be here for you. To protect you. Not just because it’s my job, either.” She looked up at him again. “I don’t want to be a stranger. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I’d just hate to be an outsider on everything.” 

 

The ding of the elevator announced their re-entry to the fourteenth floor penthouse. The doors slid open with ease. Jughead watched awkwardly as Betty stepped out without a word to him, Hot Dog at her heels. Soon after he exited the elevator himself, the blonde and her sheepdog disappeared behind the door to her room. 

 

**\---**

 

In a state of outrage, the elevator doors opened for Veronica Lodge. When she found Jughead sitting on the couch in a t-shirt and jeans, a grey knit crown beanie on his dark hair and with a book in his hands, she was first shocked to see him “so relaxed” after what Archie had told her. 

 

Or, much more simply put, Jughead fell off the couch after being startled at her presence, losing the book two feet away in the process. She marched over to where he was now laying disheveled on the floor and looked down on him, demanding answers. 

 

“Before we get defensive, may I ask how much Archie has told you?” 

 

“Not much,” Veronica replied. “Only that it took Archibald and Reginald to combine forces with you to get Betty out of the  _ New York Times _ building.” 

 

Jughead began describing what all happened as he picked himself off of the floor and sat on the couch. Veronica soon placed herself on the other side, listening intently. He told her everything, except for the conversation in the elevator. 

 

_ Could it really be considered a conversation? _ He asked himself. She hadn’t said anything. He knew she was listening. He knew she heard everything he said. Most of all, he hoped she listened. 

 

“So she’s okay?” Veronica asked finally. 

 

“Hot Dog did his job, Reggie, Archie, and I did ours,” Jughead replied. “She should be okay, though she disappeared into her room with Hot Dog right after we got back. She hasn’t come out since and it’s been...” Jughead checked his watch. “About forty minutes.”  

 

“Thank you, Jughead,” Veronica replied. She got up, walked to the blonde author’s bedroom door, and knocked. Veronica was admitted inside almost immediately. The raven-haired woman barely saw the eyes of her best friend before she turned around and headed back to her desk and laptop. 

 

“B, you just spent your whole day at work, on the computer,” Veronica began after closing the door. “You can’t take one minute to talk to me about what happened?” 

 

“What would you like to know, Ronnie?” Betty asked, still typing away. 

 

“Do you think that there’s going to be a time any time soon where you’ll encounter a crowd of your supporters that I won’t know about?” Betty spun around in her office chair guiltily. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

 

“Because everything was fine,” Betty said. “It’s surprising, even to me, but it’s the truth. You can go ask Jughead.” She was spinning back towards her computer when Veronica spoke again. 

 

“I already did.” 

 

Betty’s feet planted themselves on the ground harshly, stopping her movement. She slowly turned back to Veronica again. 

 

“What did he tell you?” Betty asked. 

 

“Though I am proud you were able to be close to him as he got you out, he said you almost had an anxiety attack before you left,” Veronica said. The blonde’s eyes widened. 

 

“He told you that?” 

 

“Of course he told me! Betty--” 

 

“Did he describe it or did he say that I almost had an anxiety attack?” 

 

“He said that if it weren’t for Hot Dog, you would have had an anxiety attack.” 

 

“Which is true--” 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Betty?” Veronica interrupted. 

 

“I don’t know,” Betty replied truthfully. “Could have been because I’m still so uncomfortable with his presence that I forgot about it, or maybe it was what he said on the way up the elevator.” 

 

“What did he say in the elevator?” Veronica asked. 

 

“He didn’t tell you?” 

 

“My guess is that he would have wanted you to tell me on your own, just as Cheryl, Toni, and I have done with him and your situation.” 

 

“Well he basically gave me a sort of... I don’t know... He tried getting to know me around lunchtime, but I pushed him away, so it was an apology for that. He basically said that he wants to be an ally as well as my bodyguard, so the interactions aren’t as awkward.” 

 

“That’s it?” Veronica asked. “What’s the problem with that?” 

 

“He looks like Malachi,” Betty replied. “Have you not caught on to that?” 

 

“But Jughead doesn’t know that, does he?” Veronica replied. “He doesn’t realize that you’re flipped out by his presence because of your past experiences. Of course he’s trying to make things more comfortable between you two.” 

 

“I’m not ready for that,” Betty explained. “Maybe once I stop jumping a foot in the air whenever I see him.” 

 

“Betty, that won’t change unless you can change your memories of experiences with dark-haired men,” Veronica said. 

 

“Malachi isn’t just going to go away, V.” 

 

“No. He won’t,” Veronica told her. “But maybe good experiences with a  _ nice _ dark-haired man who will  _ protect you _ and is  _ trained to do so _ can help you.” 

 

Betty thought about that for a moment. Veronica was right. Malachi Gonzalez and what he’s done to her would never disappear from her mind. Not completely. Betty knew that. She also knew that there was a dark-haired man now living in their penthouse that was kinder and gentler than Malachi would ever be. He did his job with dignity and professionalism, ensuring Betty’s safety, whereas Malachi wasn’t truly concerned. Maybe at the beginning of their relationship he would have been concerned, but by the time Betty broke up with him and she’d moved out, Elizabeth Cooper could definitively say that Malachi didn’t give a  _ shit _ about her safety. He was the one that had interfered with her safety more than once, after all. 

 

Probably sitting somewhere outside her door, Betty knew, was a man that cared about her. He cared about her safety. He cared about her well being. He cared about her mental state. 

 

Even after Veronica left her room, Betty couldn’t help but think about how someone could look so much like someone horrible, but be the complete opposite of them at the same time. 

 

**\---**

 

For the next two weeks, Jughead and Betty repeated their schedule. Wake up. Get ready to leave. Go to the  _ New York Times _ (now by car, as Veronica insisted). Sit and watch Betty work with Kevin. Lunch. Betty and Kevin work some more. Go down to the lobby to wait on the Pembrooke car (and sometimes Archie and Reggie as well). Get back to the Pembrooke. Betty locks herself in her bedroom, and Jughead sits on the couch with a book. 

 

After Betty got home from work, she rarely left her room unless for dinner or something else important. Whenever Cheryl, Toni, and Veronica came home, the first thing they would see was Jughead, then he would point them to Betty’s closed door, and they would each disappear behind it for several minutes before emerging again. Every time the elevator doors would open, the three women would sigh at the sight of Jughead. He soon learned that this was not a gesture at him, but at their frustrations with Betty refusing to associate herself with him. 

 

“You’re seriously doing great with her, it’s not that,” Toni explained after Betty left the dinner table one night. “We’re trying to get her to spend more time with you, and she won’t do it.” Cheryl and Veronica agreed. 

 

“She’s still getting used to you,” Cheryl added. “It’s a little weird having a guy around the house when you’re used to it just being us girls.” 

 

“And for Betty, these transitions can be harder,” Veronica said. “Especially these days.” 

 

Jughead had gotten used to the hints that Betty was traumatized by some event or some person. By the way they spoke about her, Jughead knew that Betty must have been different at one point or another. There had to have been a time when the blonde was always happy-go-lucky around her friends. Though he wished to help Betty because he admired her, it was evident that she wasn’t ready to let him in. 

 

There were a lot of unspoken things that happened in the penthouse. One of the first things that Jughead noticed was that their alarms on their phones were gentle and melodic. Precautions were taken to make sure no one set anything down too harshly, mostly silverware and other dishes. He noticed immediately that he was never able to enter the kitchen secretly when Betty was there as well. 

 

Trying to avoid that specific unspoken rule, Jughead had woken up an hour early one day to see Toni sleeping soundly on the couch in front of the TV. He decided not to wake her and instead crawled back in bed. About thirty minutes later, however, Jughead heard an alarm that sounded like a xylophone go off for barely a second, then footsteps leading down the hall. Two minutes later, the footsteps went back from where they came, and then Jughead could sense the smell of bacon beginning to be cooked. 

 

He figured Toni had just stayed up late watching TV and slept on the couch. He tried the next day and found Veronica on the couch that time. He was amazed when the same thing happened as the day before. On the third day, he tried one last time and found Cheryl wrapped in a blanket on the couch. After that, he’d given up on waking early and accepted the fact that he would always be announced in the kitchen every morning. 

 

Though he was able to stay asleep longer after he failed at his attempt of an early wake up, Jughead found himself waking up in the middle of the night a few times. He thought there had been something triggering it, like a door closing, but he couldn’t hear anything that would have catapulted him awake so suddenly. Once he’d gone the second week without jolting awake, Jughead shook it off. 

 

The only real change that occurred in the penthouse was on the day that marked the end of Jughead’s second week living there. After Jughead and Betty got off of the elevator and into the penthouse, they went in their separate directions as usual. Jughead quickly changed out of his suit and put on his normal t-shirt and jeans, along with his crown beanie, that he’d gotten a bit of criticism on and simply rolled his eyes at it. Grabbing his book, he made his way back out into the living room, relaxing against the couch. He opened his book and started reading, picking up where he left of the previous day. 

 

He was surprised when he heard someone clearing their throat delicately, and looked up from his book. He saw the blonde beauty staring back at him. She held a book under her arm as Hot Dog made himself comfortable in the dog bed provided next to the other couch. Her green eyes continued to mesmerize him as they darted around slightly before locking with his. 

 

“Um... Would you mind if I... sat over here to read?” She asked. Jughead sat up slightly, still surprised that Elizabeth Cooper was standing in front of him. 

 

“No,” he replied. “Not at all. Go ahead.” Betty flashed a small smile as a thank you, then took her spot on the opposite couch. With a subtle glance, Jughead saw that she was reading  _ In Cold Blood, _ one of his favorites on the bookshelf in his room. He didn’t comment, eager to keep the comfortable silence that he held with Betty. He didn’t want to ruin what he had finally managed to create between them. 

 

Betty was beginning to become slightly more comfortable around him, though she still hadn’t opened up to him. The large crowds outside the  _ Times _ were getting easier to navigate with her. She would keep a tight hold on his sleeve, and hadn’t been too reluctant to hold onto him in the past few days. Jughead took this as a good sign, of course. She was getting used to his presence, though she continued to barely acknowledge him. When she did notice him, he felt proud of himself, feeling as if he was responsible in helping the blonde heal in a way. 

 

When Cheryl, Veronica, and Toni came home, they were silently proud that Betty was sitting across from him, deciding to share her presence with him and the rest of the household. The dinner conversation was a bit more lively than it had been in the days past, and Betty stayed longer than she usually did. Jughead got to witness one of her rare but bright, alluring smiles during and after dinner. 

 

Everyone clocked back into their bedrooms at a decent hour with good moods. Jughead found himself hitting the pillow with a sort of peace of mind, though it all felt like it could fall over the edge at any moment. 

 

**\---**

 

_ WOOF. WOOF. WOOF. _

 

_ “What it is?”  _ Jughead mumbled drowsily as he bolted upright, hearing the audible bark of Hot Dog from the living room. Rubbing his eyes and gaining consciousness, he checked the clock. 

 

_ 1:39 AM? _ He asked himself.  _ What would a dog need at 1:39 AM? _

 

Then he heard two sets of heavy running footsteps coming from the hallway and moving to the other side of the penthouse. He thought he might have heard a distant third pair of feet against the hardwood. He blew it all off until he heard the thing that was meant to throw him over the edge: a high-pitched, terrifying scream. 

 

Jughead jumped out of bed, frantically making his way to the door, and running into the living room in his t-shirt and boxers. He saw Toni and Cheryl run inside Betty’s room. He tried to follow them. 

 

“Cheryl, Toni! What’s going--” 

 

He was cut off by the door shutting in his face. Left alone in the apartment, but too shaken to go back to bed, Jughead seated himself on one of the couches. He looked over at the opposite one, seeing a few forgotten blankets and a pillow, as well as a phone sitting on the coffee table. 

 

He didn’t know how long he sat, waiting on the women to emerge. Every few minutes, he got up to check the time on the phone.  _ 1:42. 1:47. 1:50. 1:53. 2:02 AM.  _

 

Just as Jughead was about to check the phone again, he heard the door open and decided not to. He stood up straight as the ginger, raven-haired, and pink-haired women came back out. They were all shocked to see Jughead there at first. 

 

“Oh. Jughead,” Cheryl said. “Honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised, who am I kidding?” Jughead watched as she went into the kitchen, pulling down a glass and a wine bottle. Toni, who had watched her go, called out to her. 

 

“Not too much, babe. You won’t be able to sleep.” She then turned back to Jughead. His eyes moved from Toni to Veronica. She was pensive, holding her fist over her mouth, staring at the ground. 

 

“Are you okay, Veronica?” he asked. Her head shot up and she locked eyes with him, shaking her head. “I don’t know you too well, but you look like you need a hug...” 

 

He was surprised when she walked over and embraced him silently. He did nothing but stand there for her. When she stepped back, he spoke up. 

 

“Better?” He asked, unknowing if just a hug from him would be enough. 

 

“A little. Thanks, Jughead.” 

 

“So, uh...” he began. “What happened?” Right after he asked the question, Cheryl came back with a glass of red wine. 

 

“Who wants to explain?” The ginger asked, nursing the glass. 

 

“I guess I’ll do it,” Toni replied. Veronica placed a hand on Toni’s shoulder in a silent thank you. “You were awoken by... what?” 

 

“Hot Dog, I think,” Jughead explained. 

 

“That’s what we were all woken by,” Toni explained. “Hot Dog is trained to do that when we fails to wake us up by quieter means. He usually sleeps at Betty’s side, making sure she stays asleep. Of course, he’s trained to be able to calm Betty down as she sleeps, but sometimes it gets to be too much for his capabilities, and that’s when he wakes us up. Betty has recurring nightmares, mostly about the same thing, but they can change slightly. Some are more vivid than others. Some are more serious than others. Have you, by chance, woken up a few times in the middle of the night without a specific reason?” 

 

“Y-Yeah... Why?” 

 

“That happens when Hot Dog barks once to get us up. That’s what it feels like: a sharp exit from sleep, and then you see his fluffy head and you know what’s going on. We usually wake her up before the nightmares become too serious, but we apparently didn’t react fast enough tonight.” 

 

“What do you mean?” Jughead asked. 

 

“Hot Dog kept barking, which meant that we weren’t waking up fast enough to get to Betty. And I know that you only came out when you heard Betty scream. That meant we were too late.” 

 

“If the dream comes to its peak before we get to her, we’ve failed,” Cheryl added. “It’s much, much easier to get Betty back to sleep when she hasn’t lived through the whole nightmare. We have to get her to describe it before we help her back to sleep.” 

 

“So...” Jughead began. “Am I allowed to know what it was about, so that I can change the way I act around her, or...” Cheryl and Toni’s eyes turned to Veronica, who still looked pensive. 

 

“She was almost hysterical when she woke up,” Veronica whispered. “It was maddening to see, Jughead. But the worst part was what she said about it.” 

 

“I need to know to see if I can do something about it, Veronica,” Jughead explained. “What does she think caused it?” 

 

“She strongly believed that it was spending time with you that made that nightmare much worse than any other she’s had before.” 

 

“It— It wasn’t about me... was it?”

 

“No. It wasn’t about you,” Veronica replied. “After all, you can’t control your hair color.” 

 

“She described it as very vivid, awful, and seriously haunting,” Cheryl added. “It wasn’t about you, but she thinks it was triggered by you, and she hates that because she was just starting to get comfortable around you.” 

 

“And now she’s bound to be uncomfortable again,” Jughead concluded. 

 

“In essence, yes,” Toni said. Jughead sighed and turned towards his room. 

 

“Mr. Lodge was wrong about me. I knew he should have gotten Andrews to do this.” He started walking towards his room. 

 

“Jughead, where are you going?” Toni asked. 

 

“I’m packing to move out first thing in the morning. Betty is better off without me here.” He heard running footsteps behind him as well as a chorus of people trying to stop him. He felt one of them grab his arm right before he got to his room. 

 

“Jughead, stop,” Veronica said. He did and turned around. “Archibald wouldn’t be able to handle this job and you know it. The amount of trust that Betty has put into you each day is helping her. She doesn’t know it but it’s helping.”

 

“How does this help?” Jughead asked. “I spend more time with her than usual and she has a seriously terrible nightmare.” 

 

“If a ginger is brought in to be her bodyguard, she wouldn’t have as many problems with trusting him and being around him.” 

 

“Exactly, so—”

 

“No. It’s better that she’s around you. Your hair is so similar to someone else’s that she’s having trouble adjusting to the fact that you’re not that someone else. You’re a good person. We know that. She knows that. The other person is not good. We all know that. If we let her be afraid by all tall people with dark hair, she’ll be afraid of dark-haired men forever. Over the past two weeks, she’s put more trust into you than she would ever put into another dark-haired man.  _ This is helping her.”  _

 

“But the nightmare—” 

 

“She’s had dreams like this before you ever showed up. We don’t think spending time with you was the only thing that triggered it. There are much darker reasons as to why she gets those dreams, but she’ll tell you exactly what when she’s ready. Either way, we need you. Betty needs you.” 

 

“Veronica, I can’t see her hurt at my expense.” 

 

“The dream wasn’t about you, Jughead. That’s not the way it started. It turned away from you.” 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“You were killed protecting her in her dream, but your face changed into someone else’s and  _ that _ face was the one that has caused all of this. Not you. The only thing about you that she was saying was that she blamed herself for spending time with you.” 

 

“So I should leave.” 

 

“You’re not listening to us!” Toni exclaimed. “We’ve been telling you since your first day that none of this, nothing that’s going on with Betty, is your fault. It’s true. You have caused none of this. Stop acting like it.” 

 

“Please,” Cheryl said. “Stick with her.” 

 

“It’s going to be hard,” Veronica added. “It’s hard for all of us, but she needs us. She needs all four of us now that you’re here. Four. Not three. You’re here in this apartment with us now and you’re helping whether you think you are or not. It’s going to be difficult. Stay, Jughead.  _ Please.” _

 

Jughead thought about it for a minute. If he quit, Hiram would probably place him back in the parking deck, in that same booth. He’d be on the sideline as he watched the rising author Elizabeth Cooper claim her spot on the bestseller list. He would be sitting in that booth stuck reading her book, aware that she was a mere fourteen floors away from him. She was a strong, inspirational woman that he wanted to protect from more hurt. He knew she didn’t need it in her life after everything she’d been through, though he still had no idea what exactly had happened. If he lost what he had now, Jughead knew he would be angry at himself later. 

 

“Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll stay.” 

 

“Thank you,” the three women whispered in relief. Cheryl and Toni silently walked back towards their rooms. Veronica finally let go of his arm. 

 

“Good night, Jughead,” she whispered, padding off towards the living room. 

 

Though Jughead found this peculiar, he shrugged it off and went inside his bedroom. Softly shutting the door behind him, Jughead climbed back into bed and pulled the covers over his shoulders. He couldn’t help but toss and turn after the events that had just occurred. 

 

And for some inexplicable reason, Jughead kept seeing the guy and the woman in the alleyway. 

 

As she was running for her life, Jughead felt some sort of familiarity that he couldn’t knock out of his head. 

 

He didn’t sleep a wink about it after he got back into bed.


	3. fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fear: an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one... Be prepared.  
> It's 27 pages in Google Docs...  
> You've been warned. 
> 
> Enjoy!

When Jughead Jones finally looked at the clock on his bedside table reading 6:18 AM, he facepalmed, exhausted from not being able to sleep. Figuring he should get up anyways, he did so slowly. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pushing the covers away, he lowered his feet onto the cold hardwood. He stood up and stretched, letting a yawn fall from his mouth. Jughead pushed a few curls back and away from his forehead before opening his door and walking through the hall, into the living room.

 

The first thing that Jughead saw was a figure huddled in a blanket on the couch. From what he could see, the figure had raven hair. Jughead put two and two together, walking to the couch and placing a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Veronica,” he whispered, shaking her shoulder gently. She rolled over and looked at him, her eyes clouded from sleeping.

 

“Jughead?” she asked, shifting to sit up. “W-What are you doing out here?”

 

“I could ask you the same,” he replied. “Why are you sleeping on the couch when I know full well that your father would have high quality beds for all four of you to sleep in?”

 

“It was my night,” Veronica explained.

 

“So you three--”

 

“We rotate. Hot Dog will come get us if he needs something. If there’s a problem with Betty, it’s easier if he has clear access to one of us, rather than waking the whole house.”

 

“I see,” he replied. “Now that I’m here--”

 

“No,” Veronica said. “We couldn’t.”

 

“I want to be here for her--”

 

“You cover her during the day, I couldn’t possibly let you take the night shift as well.”

 

“I could handle it, Veronica,” Jughead replied.

 

“But there’s also the possibility that she could have a panic attack if she sees you in the middle of the night. She’d mistake you for someone else. It’s just... not what she needs.”

 

“I understand,” Jughead replied. “I’ll get breakfast started, why don’t you go and give yourself a little extra time to get ready.”

 

“Thanks,” she replied, sluggishly getting off of the couch and moving down the hall to her room.

 

Jughead did as he said he would, starting breakfast in the kitchen. A few minutes later, Veronica came back out much less tired-looking. Jughead handed her a mug of fresh coffee as he took one for himself, and they both started to cook breakfast together. Toni was the next to emerge, followed by Cheryl, and then Betty came out of her room. She was evidently surprised to see Jughead, as he was usually one of the last ones up. _Good morning_ was repeated frequently to each person that entered the kitchen, but Jughead noticed that Betty was the most reserved.

 

Eager to change that feeling, Jughead took Betty’s coffee mug from Veronica, offering to take it to her himself. He placed it down in front of her and watched her head tilt up towards him. He offered a gentle smile as her green eyes lingered on his face.

 

“Good morning, Betty,” he greeted. “Your coffee, just how you like it.”

 

“Thanks,” she replied a little louder than she would usually, taking the mug in both hands.

 

“No problem.” Jughead then walked back into the kitchen, taking Betty’s plate from Cheryl and brought that to her as well. She thanked him warmly, and before he knew it, they were all sitting down and eating breakfast together. Veronica was the last one to the table after checking her phone.

 

“B, I just got the email reminding us that the Centerville Author’s Convention is tomorrow,” Veronica said, setting down her plate and sitting in her chair. Betty looked up.

 

“Oh my god, I almost forgot!”

 

 _“The Centerville Author’s Convention?”_ Jughead asked. He’d only heard of the prestigious New York convention for writers, and he’d always wanted to go, but he’d never had the means to get there or pay for the ticket.

 

“It’s in Centerville tomorrow, and Betty’s is one of the headlining authors,” Toni explained, then turned to the blonde. “Veronica and I worked for a month to get you in there and you just _forget?”_

 

“There’s a lot going on right now, T, I’m sorry,” Betty replied.

 

“I was just joking, Betty. It’s all good.” The blonde smiled.

 

“Lucky I’d already gotten the day off of work,” Betty said.

 

“Are we all going to this?” Jughead asked.

 

“Yes,” the four women replied together, slightly more aggressive than intended. He threw his hands up in surrender.

 

“I had no idea, I apologize,” he said. This gained a shy smile from Betty as she turned away, stifling a laugh. “Anyways, I should start getting ready.” He shoveled the last bite of bacon into his mouth, then left the table.

 

When he got back inside the privacy of his own room, he looked up the Centerville Author’s Convention, and felt stupid when he hadn’t noticed that Betty was _in fact_ headlining the event. Listed for her was a panel about her book and an autograph/meet and greet session.

 

He found that the convention was sold out, and that seats had actually been _reserved_ for Betty’s panel. Security on the event was already going to be tight, metal detectors and such. Then he saw something else.

 

**_All Authors: Personal Security Welcome_ **

 

 _Welcome to the big leagues,_ Jughead thought.

 

**\---**

 

The rest of the day went without a hitch. Everything at the New York Times was the same as it always was, except a reference or two to Betty’s authors’ convention (mostly from Kevin). There was no crowd outside Betty’s office when they went home, which made things easier for all parties involved. Not to anyone’s surprise, Betty ended up locked in her room once she got home from work and only emerged for dinner.

 

No one was surprised by this, with the nightmare that she had the night before. Without the hope that Betty would come out of her bedroom with Hot Dog, Veronica, Toni, and Cheryl opted to watch _Love, Simon._ Usually, Jughead would have stayed to watch it with them (it was a quality movie, after all), but he simply wasn’t in the mood for a rom-com.

 

He instead holed himself inside his room with _Behind Closed Doors: What Being a Valedictorian is Actually Like._ Jughead still couldn’t remember what had drawn him to the book that day at the bookshop. He couldn’t even remember what had drawn him into the bookstore. He certainly hadn’t planned on buying a book that day. Yet somehow, Jughead Jones ended up walking out of the doors with Elizabeth Cooper’s breakout novel under his arm.

 

Jughead was amazed each time he picked up Betty’s book. He always seemed to miss some small detail that would pop out at him when he least expected it. He was currently closer to the beginning of the novel, where Betty had begun to describe the relationship with her parents and sister.

 

_“Alice Smith and Harold Cooper were high school sweethearts who owned the local newspaper, the Riverdale Register, settled down, and (according to the rest of Riverdale) had two beautiful, perfect daughters. Both were blonde, of course. That trait flowed through the Coopers’ veins, along with the light-colored eyes. The older sister, Pauline “Polly” Cooper, was the golden child, where I, Elizabeth Victoria Cooper, was the mere shadow. In my parents’ eyes, I was no match for their first success in parenthood.”_

 

Jughead could almost hear Betty reading it to him.

 

_“Polly had always been my ally in the Cooper household. She would sneak me a little extra candy from her stash when my mom wouldn’t allow me to have any for some superficial reason._

 

_“You know better than to tarnish our name like that,” my mom said when I was six. “Sit up straight.”_

 

_“If I see one more A minus on your report card, you’ll be sent away to boarding school,” my dad threatened when I was twelve._

 

_My mother once reminded me about my weight when I was ten years old and how it was such a “disgrace” to our family. I was barely a hundred pounds._

 

_Candy is such a material item to think about now, but it means everything when you’re seven years old and your sister hands you a piece because she loves you, and she doesn’t care what our mom says._

 

_“You deserve it,” Polly would say. “After dealing with them.”_

 

_Polly would always invite me along when she had her friends over for a sleepover. Even though those girls were two years older than me, they embraced me as one of them. I would always have to slip back into my room around the right time when my parents passed by our rooms. Nevertheless, I was like the little sister of Polly’s friend group._

 

_Once they passed into junior high, they stopped inviting me along because of the seemingly larger age difference, though they were still friendly. They still embraced me warmly whenever they came over. Sooner rather than later, girls I didn’t recognize were over to stay with Polly for the night, and not all of them were so friendly. That amount increased as she entered high school. The ones I’d known forever still treated me like family in a house where it felt like Polly was the only one that I was truly related to._

 

_Polly was always the prettier, more popular one, to whom I’d been compared since my youth. Ever since she’d started high school that’s all it was. My grades and extracurriculars weren’t up to par with Polly, and my parents made it known to me. I’d already taken on the River Vixens elite cheer squad, the Blue and Gold newspaper, Riverdale High’s President of National Honors Society, mechanic and auto shop, and the academic team. Polly only had National Honors Society and the River Vixens, but nevertheless, my parents found excuses to compare my successes to hers._

 

_She’d been accepted to five colleges coming out of high school with countless scholarship offers. I had seven with the chance to go have a full ride almost anywhere I wanted._

 

_Polly had enrolled at Riverdale University for my sake. She knew that I would never survive in the house with Alice and Hal breathing down my neck about grades and extracurriculars and applications. She knew they picked me apart psychologically and emotionally. Polly always visited on the weekends and came home whenever she could. The university was twenty minutes out our back door. She sacrificed her dream of going to an Ivy League school for me. I was grateful for her. My sister was everything to me. We always got along._

 

_Until we didn’t._

 

_There had been one night where Polly and I fought because she said she was going to transfer to a school in California after I graduated high school. None of my offers were remotely close to that school, and I was angry. What would happen to me if the golden child made herself nonexistent? I would be blamed for it, probably, as I was blamed for almost everything else that happened in the house._

 

_I hadn’t accepted anywhere yet, but I knew that it would be impossible to go to school in California until the next year when I could transfer in. The offer that I was most likely to accept was the full ride to NYU for their journalism program. This changed in the blink of an eye._

 

_Polly left upset because I’d gotten angry with her. She was presumably headed back to her dorm. I tried to follow her out, but she insisted I say home so she could get her mind off of our argument. She slammed the door in my face, and I was left to an empty house._

 

_I sat on the steps to wait for her to get back. I stayed there in the silence, with my phone beside me. I hadn’t even looked at it. I only waited for a sound or a movement, but it never seemed to come. I was rehearsing how I would apologize when she came back, because I was now mad at myself for getting her to leave. And then my phone buzzed. Almost forty-five minutes had passed since Polly left, and now she was calling me._

 

_“Polly? I’m sorry, I really am--”_

 

_“Betty,” she said weakly._

 

_“Um, no this is Elizabeth Coop--”_

 

_“Betty.” It was my childhood nickname. I hadn’t used it in a decade because my mother said it wasn’t as mature as Elizabeth. “I-I love you, Betty. Never forget that.”_

 

_“Polly, what’s going on?”_

 

_“I don’t have much time left. This car rolled on top of me--”_

 

_“I’ll come get you!” I yelled, grabbing my jacket and keys._

 

_“By the time you get here, I’ll-I’ll be dead,” she told me. I could tell that she was on her last breaths. “I love you. I’ve got to let you go now.”_

 

_“Polly!” I screamed, tears rolling down my face. “No! Don’t! Please don’t give up!”_

 

_“I... I love you...”_

 

_And then the line went silent. I heard her last breaths._

 

_She’d never hung up._

 

_I listened that night as the sirens approached and the paramedics found her._

 

_She was dead._

 

_I screamed my heart out that night while punching the wall until my knuckles were bloody and bruised._

 

_For the first time in my life, I ran out of tears to cry. I could feel my body trying to pump them out, but nothing came from it._

 

_The paramedics called my parents. They came and picked me up to go to the hospital with them._

 

 _Polly had been crushed by her car when she accidentally ran into a ditch, according to a witness The car tumbled, Polly fell out of her seat, ended up on the ground, and the car landed on her. Her ribs were broken, her lungs collapsed, and there were shards of broken glass imbedded in her skin. She’d been just close enough to her phone to call me. She didn’t call our parents, she called_ me _. Her phone had been found in the palm of her limp hand._

 

 _All of her friends comforted me in the days that followed._ All _of them. Even the ones who hadn’t been quite nice to me. I looked heartless, not being able to cry again that night. I was told I looked like a shell of a person, a ghost, if you will. My mind was swarmed, unable to utter a word. I was harrowed. And I knew what I wanted to do._

 

_The next day, I accepted the offer at Riverdale University with a full ride scholarship in my sister’s honor. That was the only good thing that came out of that day of grief. Later, the police came by._

 

_I was composed enough to tell them about Polly’s phone call and our fight. Yet, I was a fool. It all got back to my parents._

 

_And they blamed me.”_

 

It had always been that passage that got to Jughead the most. Betty’s sister was dead after an argument and her parents were dead to her. He didn’t know what he would do if he lost his sister like that. She was the person that kept him going when their parents had split. He knew that she’d gone on to describe the friends she made at Riverdale University to be the best friends she ever had, and that they were her true family. He could only imagine what had gone on between Betty and her parents after she published her book.

 

He figured it was messy, and that Alice and Hal Cooper were not pleased.

 

After looking at the clock on his bedside table, Jughead put down _Behind Closed Doors,_ got up, and turned off his bedroom light. He got into bed, knowing he would need all of the rest he could get.

 

**\---**

 

The convention was exactly what Betty had pictured: lots of fans with books in their hands, wandering around to look for their favorite authors. And that was only what she saw through the windows of the bulletproof Jeep. The Centerville Convention Center had a large expanse of glass panelling for front windows and Betty could see inside perfectly, booths and posters set up on the inside.

 

Mr. Lodge had insisted on pulling out his two bulletproof Jeeps for them to use for the convention. They looked almost like smaller SUVs with their dark, tinted windows and the floorboards to step up on, but there was room for only five passengers in each car. Along with the vehicles, Hiram had given Archie and Reggie a paid day off to drive them to Centerville and for security purposes.

 

So, for the hour-and-a-half-long ride to Centerville from New York City, Betty was in the backseat of the car Archie was driving, Hot Dog perched between her and Jughead while Veronica took the passenger seat. Cheryl and Toni were with Reggie, along with all the makeup, hair, and wardrobe things Cheryl had insisted on bringing for Betty.

 

The ride had been pretty quiet, which was sort of unusual with Veronica in the car. Hot Dog’s head on her knee had been consistent, Betty’s hand placed on the top, thumb stroking his fur lazily. He’d accidentally wacked Jughead with his tail a few times, as well.

 

She’d been woken by the sheepdog that morning when he started licking her face, and he hadn’t been less clingy since. Betty figured it was because of the looming anxiety of her first panel for her book, or maybe it was the crowd. She didn’t know which specifically.

 

She’d also been thinking about possible questions she could be asked in the panel, ranging from her parents, her schooling, to... _Polly._ She didn’t want to think about her, it would have just brought back all of that pain. She also didn’t want to ruin Cheryl’s mascara work in the process, though she knew full well that the ginger would just give her a hug and redo it. After that thought ran through her head, Betty decided to try to sit back and enjoy the convention. It was her first one, and she didn’t want to ruin it for herself.

 

Betty kept telling herself that as Jughead helped her out of the Jeep, even though she pulled her hand back quickly after she got down. Archie and Reggie went to park the Jeeps after all of the women were out in front of the back entrance. As Betty looked up at the building with Hot Dog’s leash in her hand, Veronica took Betty’s other arm and guided her inside after Jughead, Toni and Cheryl right behind them.

 

The six of them were taken to a dressing room with _Elizabeth Cooper_ written on the door, and Cheryl got inside first, eager to get set up. Jughead wandered over to one of the counters in front of a mirror and found eight name tags with _All Access Pass_ written in bold letters and lanyards looped through the holes in the plastic. He did a double take.

 

 _Eight?_ He thought. _Did I count that right?_

 

Jughead looked through the passes again and found a smaller lanyard at the back with _All Access Paws_ written on it. He spun around holding the card.

 

“You guys got a name tag for _Hot Dog?”_ He asked.

 

“Well...” Toni began. “We informed the convention people Hot Dog was coming as a service dog...” The sheepdog was currently sitting next to Betty’s ankles, wagging the same fluffy tail that had smacked Jughead a few times on the way there.

 

“I’ve gotta hand it to them, then,” he replied. “They had a chance and they took it.” Toni walked over and took the card from his hands. She looked at what it said and rolled her eyes.

 

“All Access Paws,” Toni said, showing off the pass. Betty cracked a smile from the other side of the room as Veronica rolled her eyes and Cheryl facepalmed. The publicist then walked to the fluffy sheepdog and placed the lanyard around his neck.

 

Soon, the only name tags left belonged to Archie and Reggie, who returned a while later from parking the Jeeps. By then, Betty was deep into the set chair with Cheryl perfecting the blonde’s makeup and doing her hair. The three men stood by themselves in a comfortable silence while the women were quietly conversing and getting ready to go out onto the panel floor.

 

Somewhere between the Jeep and the dressing room, Betty became terrified of the panel floor. She was beginning to get anxious about what the people would ask her about her book, and she hoped nothing too serious would come up. Mostly, she didn’t want Polly to come up. She didn’t know if she could handle it emotionally.

 

Before she could delve even further into her head, Toni Topaz snapped her out of it.

 

“Earth to Betty Cooper?” The publicist asked.

 

“Sorry, T. What was that?” Betty replied.

 

“Your panel starts in half an hour. That gives us enough time to get backstage and get you ready mentally.” She coughed purposefully. “If Cheryl would finish up...”

 

“You don’t get to rush me, TT,” Cheryl replied, finally setting her makeup brush down. “See? I’m done.”

 

“I have eyes,” she told the ginger, then looked at the blonde. “You ready, Coop?”

 

“Yeah,” Betty replied, standing up and grabbing Hot Dog’s leash.

 

Jughead, who had been conversing with Reggie and Archie, but wasn’t truly into the conversation, saw that the women were getting ready to go. He pushed by the two studs and positioned himself to open the door and lead them out. Archie and Reggie took the hint, and followed them all out.

 

Jughead held the door open for Betty and Hot Dog right behind him, and then Archie caught it to hold the door for the rest of the party. Before he knew it, Betty appeared out of the corner of his eye. He looked over at her, now even with him, as her signature ponytail swished back and forth with every step. Jughead noticed the pensive yet content look on her face, and he thought that he hadn’t ever seen her this happy and calm before. Hot Dog was trotting along at her side. All three of them walking together felt so comfortable, so natural, that Jughead let a small smile slip onto his face as he turned to face forward again.

 

His expression dropped as he heard Archie run up to the front of the group and saw why he was doing it.

 

There was a giant crowd waiting to get inside the auditorium where Betty would be giving her panel. Though there was event security keeping the literary fans back, Jughead felt the need to put his arm behind the blonde, hovering but not touching the small of her back. He placed himself between the crowd and the bestselling author as they made their way inside the door to the auditorium. She smiled and waved politely at the crowd as Jughead guided her in, Archie holding the door open on the other side.

 

The party of eight heard the door shut behind them as they saw the crew setting up the panel in front of them. There were two single armchairs with a small table between them supporting two glasses of water. The crew on the stage was testing microphones, lighting, and other tech for the panel. One of the women on the crew had a headset on and looked up when they all entered.

 

“Elizabeth Cooper, is that you?” she asked as she began to approach them. Both parties stopped when they got close enough.

 

“Yes, that’s me,” Betty replied. The woman stuck out her hand, and Betty reached in to shake it as the woman spoke again.

 

“My name is Valerie Brown, I’m the stage manager for this auditorium.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” the blonde replied.

 

“And you as well, Ms. Cooper. We’re currently double-checking everything so that your panel can move as smoothly as possible. Your panel host, who will start you off by talking about your book, is currently onstage in one of the armchairs set up for you both. That’s Melody Valentine.”

 

 _“Melody Valentine?!”_ Betty asked, shocked. The woman on the stage was looking through a packet intently. Betty knew that Melody was a renowned literary critic

 

“The one and only,” Valerie replied. “Anyways, we have an area for you backstage where you can wait on the panel to begin. I will be back there later to brief you on how we’ll introduce you, Ms. Cooper.”

 

“Thank you, Valerie,” Betty replied, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand once more.

 

“My pleasure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready to open the doors. You probably don’t want to be out here when that happens.” With a curt nod, Valerie passed the group and headed towards the exit. That’s when they realized they were still standing in the aisle of the auditorium. Quickly, they made their way backstage to relax until Valerie was supposed to come back.

 

Betty, Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni sat near each other, talking quietly. The boys did the same, giving the girls some distance as they started up their own conversation.

 

Jughead was completely tuned out to the conversation he was supposed to be having with Archie and Reggie. They’d just started talking, but his eyes and mind drifted to Betty Cooper, looking more herself than ever, laughing and smiling with her literary team. Jughead memorized the way the skin around her jade eyes crinkled with every smile and laugh. He noticed that she bit down on her bottom lip every time she tried to contain a giggle. Though she could contain the sound, she couldn’t keep the corners of her mouth from spreading into a grin.

 

Jughead felt like a stalker, watching her from a distance and not being able to keep his eyes off of her. He saw as her eyes wandered towards him. Too captivated with her beauty, Jughead didn’t have the strength to look away. Just when he thought she would notice, Valerie came backstage and the blonde’s attention turned back to the stage manager.

 

“Alright, Ms. Cooper,” she greeted. “The fans are going to be coming in at any moment now, so I’m here to let you know what’s going on before it gets too loud in here.” Betty and her crew nodded curtly towards the woman. “Great. We’ll wait for everyone to get seated, then we’ll secure the doors, and after that Melody will be introduced and she’ll go onstage. She’ll say a few words, probably words of greeting, some information about you, and then some information about your book. Then she’ll introduce you, and you’ll walk onstage. Melody will take it from there. Are you with me so far?”

 

The women nodded.

 

“So, getting off can be slightly more complicated. The fans may want to rush the stage. We’ll have event security in front of the stage to prevent that from happening as best we can, but if you so choose, you may have part of your personal security team to escort you back here.”

 

“Uh...” Betty began. She looked over at the three men in their luxury suits, then looked back up at Valerie. “We’ll figure out what we’re going to do about that.”

 

“Whatever your decision is, make sure you get off stage quickly. We don’t need any authors getting caught up because of something a fan has done.”

 

“Agreed,” Veronica piped in.

 

“After you’re done with the panel, you all will wait back here until I give the all clear, saying that it’s secure for you to leave the auditorium. From there, you can go back to your dressing room or you can go straight to the autograph session. Whichever you prefer.”

 

“Thank you, again, Valerie,” Betty said.

 

“No problem. There’s about five minutes until we introduce Melody, so just be prepared.” Valerie walked away as they started their conversations again. Before they knew it, all of them registered the sound of fans coming inside the auditorium. Hot Dog adjusted himself so that his head was under Betty’s hand.

 

“I really wish I could shake this anxiety,” Betty muttered, letting her fingers revel in Hot Dog’s soft, comforting fur. Veronica placed a hand on the blonde’s knee.

 

“Just try to enjoy it, B. You’ve worked for this for a long time.”

 

“It’s been about three years now,” Cheryl piped in. “It feels like yesterday we were sitting down for you to tell Toni and I.”

 

“And you asked us to be your literary team,” Toni said. “Three years later, I’m the publicist of a bestselling author.” She winked and Betty grinned momentarily.

 

“I remember when you had the _idea,”_ Veronica added. Betty looked over at her best friend. She’d been there for her that summer after the grueling fight with her parents, the one she didn’t like to talk about much. “You were so excited, B. It started out as vengeance, but it turned into your passion. You ended up not caring about getting back at _you know who_ , but you wanted to put your story out there for other young people affected by parental abuse.”

 

“And that’s why they love it, Coop,” Toni chimed in. “The cold hard truth is deep, girl.”

 

“It was _a fucking power move_ is what it was,” Cheryl said. That caused the tension to ease as they all burst into laughter. “I mean it, B. You took savagery to a whole other level when you outed your parents.”

 

“Now they’re blacklisted back in Riverdale,” Veronica added. “No one wants to associate with them anymore. And those people out there love you for doing that to your parents. Just go and be yourself: the amazingly kind and brave Elizabeth Cooper that we know and love.”

 

“Thanks, guys,” Betty replied as she stood up to hug all of them at once. They followed her lead, and it resulted in a huddle of women giggling softly and standing backstage. They only broke away when Valerie’s voice broke through.

 

“Elizabeth Cooper, we’re ready for you to be staged.”

 

Cheryl, Toni, and Veronica wished her luck before she picked up Hot Dog’s leash and stood in the spot that they’d marked for before she was to set foot on the stage. Melody was already out there, speaking to the audience about her quick rise on the bestselling charts.

 

Betty was standing next to Valerie, who had her headset on. She had a wireless microphone in her hand as she looked up at Melody, then back at her clipboard every so often. After a minute of doing that, she turned to Betty and showed her where the “On” switch was, instructing her to only turn on the mic when she went onstage, and handed her the microphone. After that, Betty was able to focus on Melody’s words.

 

“This book right here is one of the best memoirs I’ve ever read. Can we all agree on that?” she asked the crowd. They provided a loud cheer in response. “Yes, yes, it’s a good one. The question still remains as to whether or not this book will become a classic coming-of-age story with a few large bumps, but only time will tell. Cooper’s _Behind Closed Doors_ can show us more than we expect on the cover with the image of a bright red door. No, this book isn’t about _doors,_ necessarily. It’s about what happens when that door is closed.”

 

“Sometimes high school valedictorians are laughed at. I watched my high school’s valedictorian grow up. We had all teased him about his seemingly perfect grades and his acceptances everywhere. We’d all known that he was going to be the one to get it, there was no question about it. What haunts me about him, though, is the that what happened to Cooper could have been happening to him when we were in high school.” A hush fell over the crowd in realization. “Preparing for this panel, I called him a few days ago to ask if he’d read the book, and of course he had. I knew he was a bookworm that loves bestsellers. I proceeded to ask him if what was happening to Cooper happened to him, and he said it hadn’t. He told me he hadn’t even been attempting to get the honor, he was just trying to get into his parents’ college, which he did do, I am proud to say.”

 

She took a pause and glanced offstage at Betty. Melody nodded, then turned back to the crowd.

 

“Without further ado, here to talk about her bestseller, the author or _Behind Closed Doors: What Being a Valedictorian is Actually Like,_ Elizabeth Cooper.”

 

Melody gestured to her side of the stage as Betty and Hot Dog started walking towards the woman. The lights hit them first, then the sound of the crowd cheering for them. Betty turned to face the audience as she walked, waving and smiling graciously. She stopped in the middle of the stage to shake Melody’s hand, then both women sat down as Betty turned her microphone on. When the crowd calmed itself, Melody spoke again.

 

“It’s great to have you here, Elizabeth,” she told her.

 

“I’m happy to be here, there’s no doubt about that, Melody,” Betty replied. She sensed as Hot Dog sat next against her armchair, looking out at the audience.

 

“I guess we should dive in, if that’s alright with you, Elizabeth?”

 

“I’m curious to hear what you have for me.”

 

“First of all, your book is on a rather nice list that would now title _Behind Closed Doors_ as a bestseller. How do you feel about that?”

 

“That’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, to be honest. I was woken up by my literary agent and publicist the morning after it was placed on the bestseller list. They physically shook me awake and they were screaming like banshees. Soon, I was too, and we ended up waking my stylist.” The crowd laughed. “She needed coffee first.”

 

“Your publicist and literary agent got inside your residence while you were asleep?”

 

“My literary team just so happens to be three of my best friends. We met at Riverdale University about four or five years ago. They were with me when I first started working on _Behind Closed Doors,_ and of course, they were my biggest supporters. I am proud to say that my best friends are my literary agent, publicist, and stylist. Those three are the greatest people in the world, and we all live together in an apartment in the middle of New York City.”

 

“Not many people live with their publicist.”

 

“Oh, I am very aware.”

 

“And that brings me to my next point of interest, which I’m sure you’ve seen coming... It’s not easy to live with parents that have high expectations.”

 

“You’re absolutely right,” Betty replied.

 

“If you don’t mind my asking, Elizabeth, how did your parents react when they saw your book?”

 

“I’d actually cut all ties with them during the summer after my sophomore year in college. We had a very toxic argument about this and that. After they blamed me for a few things that I knew I was not responsible for, I got my best friends and future literary team together, and they helped me get all of my things out of that house as soon as possible.”

 

The crowd clapped and cheered with approval.

 

“I haven’t spoken to my parents since saying goodbye and telling them that I was never coming back to set foot under their roof. Still, they did not react well. My mother was much more upset than my father by a long shot. I got a call after I’d moved into New York City because my hometown was talking about how I’d published a book and all. News travels fast in a small town like Riverdale, and so do books, as well. My parents were blacklisted within Riverdale after I exposed the truth about them. When the call came, my immediate reaction was to not pick up, but I did the opposite. My mom told me that I was a terrible child, that I needed to take the book off of the shelves as soon as possible, and that I should be ashamed of doing such a thing to tarnish my parents’ name.”

 

“Did you reply?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Might I ask what you told her?”

 

“I told her, _Oh, that’s good. That means that I got the story right._ Then I hung up and blocked her number.”

 

The crowd cheered again in agreement.

 

“That’s _something,”_ Melody said. Betty smiled and stifled a laugh. “But they deserved that after everything I read.”

 

“I agree,” Betty replied. “She had that coming for twenty years.”

 

“If I remember correctly, your parents had very high expectations for you _and_ your sister.”

 

“Oh, absolutely. It was quite overwhelming at first when I was in kindergarten because I had no idea what was going on or why it had to be that way. I never liked them trying to force me into things like that, but I realized I wasn’t able to get away from it, and I decided to accept it. It became the most overwhelming in high school, with transcripts and report cards that _colleges_ were going to see. Polly and I were both drawn into that from a young age and it really changed who we both were.”

 

“You were compared to her your whole life seemingly because she was simply older.”

 

“Yes, that’s how it came across. Polly was successful, therefore I was expected to be just as successful, if not more.”

 

“At the end of the day, you did end up the much more recognized daughter, right?”

 

“I was under the foolish impression that I was only worth as much as my parents deemed. As a kid, I was the more tomboyish one. I loved playing outside, running around and things, while my sister preferred to keep clean indoors. My mom did not approve of my behavior, and set it upon herself to change it. Suddenly, I was forced to be more like Polly. That’s where it began. After that, my parents kept comparing me to her, and expected me to do more than her, even though I’d done more than she had.”

 

“But even through that, you still loved your sister.”

 

“My sister ignored my parents’ opinions and treated me like a human being. She wasn’t in any way indifferent towards me. I was still her little sister, and she was still going to do all in her power to be the family member that I never had in my parents. She was my only glimmer of hope in our immediate family.”

 

“And with that being said, we don’t have to go any further on your sister, unless you are okay with continuing on the subject,” Melody proposed. Betty thought for a moment. She knew she could break down if they talked about Polly’s death.

 

“We can continue,” Betty said, to the surprise of her literary team and Jughead backstage.

 

“We all know how much you loved your sister. She was a good person, a great sister, and she shielded you from the wrath of your parents on more than one occasion. She stood up for you, she trusted you, and she stayed in Riverdale for you. I know you have stated in your book the events that led to the crash, and what you did immediately after. My question for you, at the moment, is whether you would have gone to Riverdale University even if Polly had been planning to stay.”

 

“I had been planning on going to NYU the next semester for college with a full ride, and NYU is only about an hour from Riverdale. So, no. I would not have gone to Riverdale University.”

 

“Do you regret going to Riverdale University?”

 

“No.” Betty shifted in her chair. “Not in the slightest. I met my best friends there, I started writing _Behind Closed Doors_ there, and it was because of their journalism department that I have a job at the _New York Times.”_

 

“Do you regret the events that led to accepting a full ride at Riverdale University?”

 

“I do, but I don’t at the same time,” Betty confessed. “I believe that it’s never good for someone to have to perished, even if good things come from it. On the other hand, all of these good things that have happened to me since that night happened _because_ of that night. Of course, I miss Polly. I miss her all the time. Without Polly, I wouldn’t be here today. Without that terrible car crash, I would not have the amazing friends that I have today, I wouldn’t have found the strength to stand up to my parents, and I probably wouldn’t have that book on a bestseller list. I will never stop loving Polly, but I will always be grateful for the time she spent on earth with me, and I will always be grateful that what happened to her _caused_ me to free myself from my parents, something she’d always encouraged me to do.”

 

“Polly wanted you to get away from Riverdale?”

 

“Polly wanted me to get emancipated,” Betty revealed, almost choking on her own words. There were murmurs among the crowd. “I had nowhere else to go, so I had no choice but to stay. She really pushed for it when I was in fourth grade, when I was old enough to understand what it meant. I refused because I had nowhere to go, and because I didn’t want to leave her. Once she was gone, there was no point in sticking around my parents. They only blamed me for her death.”

 

Betty looked down and saw Hot Dog’s chin on her knee. She moved her free hand to sit on his head. Betty knew that he wasn’t sensing anxiety. He was sensing her sadness and memories of emotional abuse. Melody’s voice caused Betty to look up again.

 

“Elizabeth, believe me when I say that I think everyone in this room hates your parents as much as you do,” Melody said. A large cheer erupted from the crowd, which caused a small smile to grace Betty’s lips.

 

“And with good reason, too,” Betty replied.

 

“Alright, I think you’ve gotten enough from me. How about we get some questions from audience members?”

 

**\---**

 

There were only a few questions from the rest of the panel that Betty remembered vividly.

 

_“I just wanted to ask who the dog is and if he’s a good boy,” someone said, causing the entire auditorium to erupt in laughter._

 

“There’s no shame in that,” Betty replied. “This is Hot Dog. He’s a sheepdog and he doubles as my service dog for my anxiety. Just so you know, he is the _best_ boy out there and he’s one of the best friends that I didn’t meet at Riverdale University.”

 

 _“What’s it like to work at the_ New York Times _?”_

 

“The _Times_ was my dream job, so being able to go in every day to write for them is an awesome experience. I have a column that I share with another best friend that I didn’t meet at RU. His name is Kevin, and he’d one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met.”

 

_“I know you mentioned Hot Dog was your service dog for anxiety. How do you deal with it regularly?”_

 

“I know every case is different, but my anxiety is triggered by not feeling safe,” Betty said. “I have to feel physically safe and emotionally stable for my anxiety to lessen its impact on me. Hot Dog will usually slip his head under one of my hands when I feel anxious. I know you’re not supposed to distract him or anything, but he seems to know it calms me down for him to do that. I will also find a space away from other people, put on music, read, and relax. That helps a lot as well.”

 

“Okay, I think that’s all the time we have for questions,” Melody interjected after about a dozen fans had their queries answered. “Thank you for joining us, and have a wonderful rest of the day at the Centerville Authors’ Convention!”

 

Security stood where the stage touched down to the floor, keeping fans back from rushing up to her. Betty turned off her microphone and stood up. As she turned, she saw a raven-haired man in a luxury suit walking towards her. His eyes locked with hers for a moment and she realized it was Jughead. He walked over and stopped right in front of her.

 

“You did great, Betty,” he assured her. “You ready to get out of here?”

 

“Yeah, let’s go,” she replied. As they walked out, Jughead positioned himself between the crowd and Betty, escorting her off and behind the curtains that kept the bright lights out of backstage. Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni were all waiting for her to come off. The four women met in a tight embrace, congratulating her, as Jughead walked back over to Archie and Reggie.

 

“Betty, you did amazing!” Toni exclaimed, cupping the blonde’s cheeks. She smiled in response.

 

“You guys are the best,” she replied earnestly. They hugged again with joyful laughter all around. They broke away when Valerie came around again.

 

“Great show, Ms. Cooper. The way back to your dressing rooms and to your autograph booth are both secure. You can go whichever route you like. It’s been a pleasure to work with you this morning.” They shook hands.

 

“Thanks again!” Betty called out as the woman left. The blonde turned back to her friends. “Autographs or dressing room?”

 

“Autographs only last for an hour-long session and it starts in...” Toni checked her watch. “Thirty minutes.”

 

“We’ll be out of here by lunchtime,” Jughead piped in. The girls jumped, not realizing the three men had been so close to them.

 

“We didn’t bring food for lunch, so we can get something on the way home,” Veronica suggested. Everyone was in agreement with that except for Jughead.

 

“Toni, Archie, and I can go with Betty to her autograph booth while the rest of you pack up the Jeep, go get lunch, and bring it back so we have it ready to go,” he suggested.

 

“That’s not a bad idea, Jones,” Cheryl said. Archie and Reggie nodded.

 

“B, are you good with that?” Veronica asked her blonde best friend. She thought about it for a moment. The look in the tall man’s eyes said _I need food as soon as possible._

 

“Sure,” she replied.

 

“Really?” Toni asked.   


“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll have Hot Dog too. What’s the harm in splitting up for the sake of takeout?”

 

“There may not be harm in it if there’s _parm_ in it,” Reggie agreed. He got a hi-five from Archie and Jughead while the girls rolled their eyes. “Get it?” He asked them. “Parm as in _parmesan--?”_

 

“We got it, Reg,” Toni replied. “Let’s get to that booth, shall we?” She looped her arm through Betty’s, leading them and Hot Dog towards the door. Archie and Jughead took the hint, following behind them.

 

“We’ll be in the dressing room, packing up!” Veronica told them. Toni and Betty flashed a thumbs up. Archie stepped forward to hold the door open while Jughead took the lead, making sure any fans were staying far enough away from Betty and Toni.

 

The walk to the autograph booth was pretty short and uneventful. As Valerie had said, the route there was cleared because of event security. Waiting on the tall table for Betty to sit at was a bottle of water, along with a good amount of printed covers of her book and a few permanent markers for autographs. Toni was stationed behind a large curtain on the phone (after getting an urgent work call), right behind Betty’s tall chair. Archie had also placed himself back there for security, Jughead was standing almost in front of her table, and Hot Dog was curled below Betty’s feet, sleeping.

 

When Betty signaled that she was ready, event security opened the line for her autograph booth. Fans came flooding in, but Jughead kept them orderly as they interacted with Betty. She was signing left and right: copies of her book, t-shirts, hats, you name it. Most everything she was asked to sign was signed. She was making her way through fans quickly. Some stopped for a selfie, others were too infatuated by her signature that they left with a quick thank you.

 

Betty began to feel anxious, though. She thought that maybe everything could go downhill in a split second. She was signing a woman’s copy of her book when she thought she saw a mop of dark curls in the crowd, then she determined she was just paranoid and distracted herself with her work once more.

 

Jughead was observing the crowd (almost from above, as he was tall) when one fan caught his eye. It was a man with olive skin and dark, tightly curled hair. He looked anxious but assured at the same time. There was something going on in his mind, Jughead could tell that much. Rather than starting a scene and attacking a man who could have been innocently anxious, Jughead kept eyes on him as he made his way to the front of the line.

 

Toni has emerged from behind the curtain to sit with Betty a few minutes earlier, but as the man got even closer, she had to take another call and disappeared behind the curtain once more. When the pink-haired woman left, Jughead began to get weird vibes about the man and found it easier to keep his eyes on him. After what felt like an eternity, he began to approach the autograph table.

 

The smile that was plastered on Betty’s face from the last fan dropped. She looked up in disbelief, her green eyes becoming glassy, clouded almost, with fear and pain. Jughead recognized the change in her mood immediately, and so did Hot Dog.

 

The white sheepdog was standing up and whimpering now, trying to get Betty’s attention, but her meadow green gaze was focused on the man in front of her. His hazel, demonic eyes shook Betty’s soul, and she started to panic.

 

“Hey, cupcake,” he said. “You miss me?”

 

Betty shivered at the use of the pet name. She couldn’t answer because she was still in shock.

 

“I-I...”

 

Jughead stepped between the man and the blonde, blocking his view.

 

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You are making Ms. Cooper uncomfortable.”

 

“So you have bodyguards now?” The man taunted, peering around Jughead’s frame.

 

“Get out of my sight, Malachi,” Betty growled, mustering some courage.

 

“After I’ve come all this way to see you?” he asked. “That is hardly hospitable for you, Elizabeth Cooper.”

 

Hot Dog stopped trying to gain Betty’s attention, realizing it was pointless, and instead started growling as he ran around the table, stationing himself next to Jughead.

 

“Oh, and a fluffy dog, I see. What’s he gonna do, smother me with cuddles?”

 

“Get the hell away from me,” Betty said a bit louder. Jughead was shocked by her shift in tone. He turned to glance at her.

 

Betty’s eyes were dark and red-rimmed. There was a scowl on her lips that could have made weaker man tremble in fear. He knew that wasn’t Betty. It was her enraged counterpart, her shadow. It was the being that held her resentments and dark experiences. As he stared into her eclipsed eyes, he recognized all of the darkness, all of the terrible, frightening experiences, but none of Betty Cooper.

 

Hot Dog’s crisp bark was enough to make Jughead snap out of his headspace. He noticed, after facing forward again, that the man had jumped back. Hot Dog was still growling. Heads turned to see a flustered pink-haired woman and a ginger stud emerge from behind the curtain. Jughead approached her, and she muttered only a few words after assessing the situation. Her brown eyes bore into his blue ones as she spoke.

 

“Get Betty away from here,” she told him seriously as Archie went to take over where Jughead had just left off.

 

“What?”

 

“Get her out of here.” Nobody moved.

 

Toni walked over to the blonde, pulling her out of her chair and shoving her towards Jughead. Betty was so shocked by Toni’s movements that she almost fell over. Reaching forward, Jughead caught her in his arms and she clung tightly to his jacket.

 

“Go!”

 

He pulled Betty away as she buried her face into his chest, though he was still confused. Hot Dog turned and followed the blonde, seeing that Toni and Archie could take the situation from there. Jughead and Betty started walking quickly in the direction of the dressing rooms as they held tightly to each other. The blonde was almost stumbling over the raven-haired bodyguard as they walked, Jughead piloting them in the right direction. He kept looking back to check and see if Hot Dog was still following them, and of course he was.

 

When they got back to the dressing room, Jughead nearly kicked the door open, pulling himself and Betty inside. He only shut the door again when Hot Dog was able to get inside. To Jughead’s relief, Veronica and Cheryl were still packing things up.

 

“Oh, good, you’re back,” Veronica greeted while still packing things away. When she turned to face them, her smile dropped. Whatever was in Veronica’s hands fell to the ground. Cheryl took the hint and looked at the pair.

 

“Oh no,” the ginger muttered, walking over to peel the blonde away from Jughead. Veronica followed her lead, trying to pry Betty off of him.

 

They’d recognized the absent, doe eyes, the slacked jaw, and the darkened color of Betty’s irises: she was about to have a panic attack. Unlatching himself from the blonde, Jughead let the women do their work as they were finally able to get Betty to let go.

 

They each took one of her arms, leading her over to one of the chairs and sitting her down. Jughead watched from the corner as they tried to get her attention, searing hot tears streaming down her face, and her expression frozen in shock. When they couldn’t get her to focus and calm down, Veronica walked over to Jughead.

 

“What happened?” she asked.

 

“There was a guy--”

 

“Dark hair? Olive skin?”

 

“How did you know?”

 

“Doesn’t matter.”

 

“She called him _Malcolm_ or something--”

 

“Malachi?”

 

“Yeah, that was it.”

 

“That sonofabitch,” Veronica grumbled. “She can’t go _anywhere_ anymore without him ruining shit.”

 

“Toni had to pull Betty out of her chair and push her towards me for her to leave the booth. She told me to take her and go.”

 

“And Toni’s right for doing that,” Veronica quipped. “That’s what I would have done.” When she turned around, she saw Betty and Cheryl sitting on the floor, one of the blonde’s hands clasped in the ginger’s, and the other hand in Hot Dog’s fur. He laid down and rested his head in her lap, calming her down. Jughead and Veronica both felt a flood of relief at the peaceful sight.

 

“Hot Dog wins again,” Veronica muttered, sighing and turning back to Jughead. “I hope you realize how hard it was to get her off of you.”

 

“I did,” Jughead replied, having memorized the feeling of her hands clenching on the fabric of his suit jacket.

 

“That means we’re making progress,” Veronica whispered. “She trusted you to get her back here safely after seeing the person she fears. That’s a heavy concept.”

 

Jughead nodded.

 

“Thank you, Jughead,” the dark-haired woman said before turning around to go sit with Betty and Cheryl. Veronica said something to the red-head before they exchanged places and Cheryl pulled out her phone, walking out into the hall.

 

Jughead was stuck in the corner as Veronica tried to get Betty to speak to her, though her eyes were locked forward. The only part of her that moved was her hand on top of Hot Dog’s head, gently caressing the fluffy fur. The sheepdog yawned and Betty peeled her eyes from their place in the void to look at him. Jughead watched her relax so much that her hand slipped out of Veronica’s.

 

“B?” she asked. Betty looked at her.

 

“He found me, V. _He found me.”_

 

“He didn’t get to you. You’re okay.”

 

“I can’t avoid him.” She was spiraling.

 

“We’ll keep you safe, B. All of us. Toni, Cheryl, Jughead, Archibald, and Reginald. _All of us.”_

 

“It’s not enough.”

 

“He won’t ever be able to lay a finger on you again. Isn’t _that_ enough?”

 

Jughead could see the pain in Betty’s eyes as she looked at Veronica.

 

“He can find you all he wants,” Veronica said. “We can’t stop him from doing that. He won’t be able to touch you ever again if I can help it. _That_ we can control.”

 

Betty slowly shifted forward and wrapped her arms around Veronica. She did the same, and they only pulled away when Hot Dog whined. Both women realized his head slipped off Betty’s leg when she went to hug Veronica.

 

“Oh, get over it,” Betty told him. “I’m sorry for waking you, _Your Majesty.”_ Both Veronica and Jughead chuckled before Betty scratched behind his ears lovingly.

 

**\---**

 

Veronica and Cheryl finished packing everything up and loaded Reggie’s Jeep with their supplies. Jughead guided Betty and Hot Dog back to Archie’s Jeep, and made sure that she was comfortable before going to help out the women.

 

“If you need something, just yell,” Jughead told her before shutting the Jeep door. He went around to the back of the other Jeep, helping Veronica push one of the boxes into the trunk. He got the rest of the boxes in quickly, shutting the overhead door behind him. He turned to Reggie, who looked slightly angry.

 

“You good, man?” Jughead asked.

 

“The girls won’t let us eat until Arch and Toni get back,” he grumbled passive-aggressively. Jughead exhaled through his nose and smiled, as one does when they watch comedy on Netflix alone.

 

“You’ll survive, Reg.”

 

“Will I?” He leaned against the back of the Jeep. “Will I really?”

 

“A very valid question, Reginald,” Jughead replied. He was going to continue, until Reggie jumped in joy. Jughead looked over at the convention center and saw Archie and Toni walk out. He threw two fists in the air.

 

“Victory!” He whispered with a goofy grin on his face. Reggie clapped a hand to his shoulder as they both laughed.

 

Once they were all back in their Jeeps, lunch was distributed to everyone, then they started back for New York City. The ride back was even quieter than the ride before. Betty had her earbuds in, Hot Dog was content, Archie was driving, and Veronica was on her phone. Jughead had forgotten to bring a book with him, and was sitting in silence. He tried looking out the window, checking his phone, and watching the traffic in front of him, but he couldn’t seem to sit still. He looked across the backseat at Betty.

 

The light was shining through her window and onto her. Betty’s hair looked golden in the sunlight, her pale skin radiating purity and grace. What he could see of her eyes reflected everything she saw in the green irises and dark centers of her pupils. He felt creepy, allowing his gaze to fix itself on her, but he couldn’t tear himself away from her. She was a vision.

 

He whipped his head straight forward suddenly as Betty turned to look at him. He sensed her sit up straight from leaning against the door, ruffling Hot Dog’s fur. What he didn’t expect was that she would lean over and touch his arm.

 

Jughead looked at her hand on his bicep and followed her arm up to her face. She had a tight-lipped smile spread across her lips and her green eyes were waiting for him to connect his own to her. She removed her hand and pulled out an earbud.

 

“Hey,” she whispered so that Veronica and Archie wouldn’t hear. “I just... I just wanted to thank you.”

 

“Me? For what?” Jughead asked just as softly.

 

“For what you did at the autograph booth through when we got back to the dressing room,” she replied. “Thank you.”

 

“It’s no problem, Betty,” he whispered. She nodded and began to lean back into her seat. “Wait,” Jughead interjected. She stopped and tilted herself towards him again.

 

“What is it?”

 

“I just have a question. C-Can I ask you?”

 

“Uh... Sure.”

 

“Was that guy at the convention... was that your ex boyfriend?”

 

There was a long pause. Betty bit her lip at the thought.

 

“Yeah,” she whispered finally. “Yeah, it was...”

 

“Thanks. Now I know who to look out for.”

 

“You’re— You’re not gonna quit after all of that?”

 

“Oh, ye of so little faith,” he said playfully. “I would never. I enjoy following around my favorite author too much.”

 

Betty bit her lip again and slid back into her seat. She was quiet for the rest of the ride.

 

**\---**

 

Due to the infuriating traffic on their way back to New York City, the two Jeeps carrying Archie Andrews, Veronica Lodge, Jughead Jones, Cheryl Blossom, Toni Topaz, Reggie Mantle, Hot Dog, and Betty Cooper entered the city at a crawling pace. They had to pull over at a restaurant for dinner because traffic was so caught up.

 

By the time Archie and Reggie dropped off their passengers at the door of the Pembrooke, it was almost 7:30PM, nearly six hours after they had planned to be back. The two doormen on duty for that day helped them get all of their things from the back of Reggie’s Jeep and had it all sent to their room ahead of time. When the four women, Jughead, and Hot Dog stepped into the penthouse from the elevator, Betty went straight to bed, claiming exhaustion.

 

Cheryl and Toni decided thirty minutes later that the night was still young, and they left to go on a date. Veronica scoffed at them while in her pajamas, settling herself into the couch for a movie. Frankly, Jughead agreed with Veronica, but they both let the couple do as they pleased, and put in a movie.

 

It was a little weird at first, because the two raven-haired adults were friends sitting alone and watching a movie. Jughead eased the tension by sitting on the opposite side of the couch from her. They made general conversation about the movie every so often, but other than that, they were silent.

 

About thirty minutes later, an incessant ringing distracted Jughead from the movie. He looked at the coffee table to see Veronica picking up her buzzing phone.

 

“I’ll be right back, I need to take this,” she explained. Jughead nodded and continued on with the film. What dazed him was when she came back a few minutes later, fully dressed again.

 

“What’s going on?” He asked.

 

“I really have to go, but I hate to leave you here alone... It’s a late work call -- I’m sorry--”

 

“I’ll hold it down here, Veronica,” Jughead assured her.

 

“You’re sure?” Veronica asked.

 

“I can handle it. I’ll be fine.”

 

“Thank you so much, Jughead. I’ll be back kind of late--”

 

“Don’t worry about it. Go to work.”

 

So she left after telling him to call her if anything bad happened. As far as Jughead could tell, Betty was knocked out, asleep in her bed. After the exhausting day they had, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she slept through the night. After the grueling six hour car ride that he couldn’t find a way to sleep through, and that he _knew_ Betty hadn’t been able to either, he didn’t blame the blonde for hitting the sack earlier than normal. If anything, he wish he had the same amount of integrity to go to sleep earlier than he usually did.

 

And maybe that was why he was drawn to Betty: she stood up for herself when she needed to. She didn’t take shit from anyone around her, but was also an absolute sweetheart. After reading everything she’d been through (multiple times), Jughead thought it only made since that she was a great human being: she wanted to change the course of her life, so she made sure to treat everyone kindly.

 

Jughead snapped out of his thoughts when he heard small noises in the penthouse. He turned to face the direction they were coming from. Slowly, Jughead saw a fluffy, white sheepdog emerge from the crack in Betty’s door. It was his toenails against the hardwood that he heard. Checking his watch quickly, he saw that about forty minutes had passed since Veronica left. Jughead waited for Hot Dog to come over to him, and when he did, the sheepdog nudged his knee with his nose.

 

Knowing that something was definitely wrong now, Jughead paused the movie, threw the remote into the couch, and tried to sprint to Betty’s door. As he was wearing socks and no shoes, he slipped and landed face first on the wooden floor. Quickly disregarding his fault, he got up and kept running across the room. He slid to a stop in front of her doorway. He was about to push the door open when he felt himself subconsciously jump.

 

Betty’s screams filled the apartment.

 

Shaken at first, Jughead pushed the door open wide, running over to Betty’s bedside. She was rocking back and forth, hyperventilating with her hands holding at her neck. When Betty saw Jughead run over to her, she immediately scampered back against the headboard, shaking her head vigorously.

 

“Betty, it’s me. It’s Jughead,” he tried to explain, but she wasn’t having any of it. He ran and slid over to the light switch, fumbling with it before it turned on.

 

“It’s just me, Betts,” he told her. She was able to let out a large sigh that was consuming her lungs, though searing tears were still pouring out of her eyes. Her breathing was still labored, but Jughead knew that she’d registered his face, even though he had a bruise forming on his forehead.

 

He walked back over to the blonde and pulled a chair up to her queen-sized bed. He sat next to her while she cried and stroked her back caringly.

 

“It’s okay. You’re okay now,” he reassured her.

 

When she asked for a tissue, he would pull one out the box for her. When she asked for a glass of water, he joked to Hot Dog about making Betty stay there, which made her laugh lightly, then went to get it for her. Whatever she needed, he was there to get it for her. When a lock of hair threatened to fall in front of her still teary eyes, Jughead gently guided it back behind her ear.

 

Jughead talked to Betty about the movie he’d been watching to distract her from whatever night terror had shaken her core. He told her about some of the conversations he had with Veronica about the movie before she left for work, and to his surprise, she engaged with it to a degree. She mostly just listened to his smooth, calming voice.

 

Little by little, Betty was slumping back against her pillows and her eyelids became heavier. It was a challenge to keep them open for too long. Jughead helped her settle back under the covers. After moving the chair back to where it was supposed to be, Jughead started walking towards the door to turn off the light and go back to the living room.

 

When his hand hovered over the switch, Jughead heard a small, soft voice echo inside the room. He turned his head towards the source.

 

“Jug,” she’d whispered, stopping the Jones man in his tracks. Betty had climbed out of bed and was halfway to the doorway.

 

“Yes?” he asked, wondering why she would be up.

 

“This might be a bit weird, but... Can I get a hug? I... The one you gave me earlier when you were taking me back to the dressing room, it just... It was calming... And--”

 

“Is Betty Cooper rambling?” Jughead teased, walking back towards her.

 

“Maybe...” she muttered. “Just -- before you leave, I want a hug...”

 

“That’s perfectly fine, Betts.” He let the nickname roll of his tongue as if it were normal. Cutting the distance between them, Jughead wrapped Betty up in his arms for a warm, soothing hug. His hold was a salve for her broken skin, the feeling of welcome she’d been deprived of for a long time.

 

After a few moments, the blonde pulled away and looked into Jughead’s cerulean eyes.

 

“This will also probably sound weird--”

 

“Your ‘weird’ requests aren’t weird at all, Betty.”

 

“Can you stay with me?” Betty asked. “It gets kind of lonely, and _I trust you_ to protect me the... You don’t have to stay the whole time, just until I’m asleep at least--”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jughead replied. “I’ll stay here with you.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah. Whatever you need to be able to sleep.”  

 

Jughead turned around and flicked the lights off, letting the moonlight shine through the windows in the blonde’s room. Betty made her way back to her side of the bed and climbed in. Jughead went around to the other side and did the same, sliding under the smooth sheets.

 

Feeling the awkwardness in the air, both of them let a laugh tumble from their lips before Betty made one last request.

 

“Can you hold me?” she asked, nervous for him to decline.

 

“Come here, you anxious little bundle,” he quipped, trying to get her to realize how ridiculous it was for him to think her requests were weird. She giggled, rolling into his outstretched arms. With their arms wrapped around one another, Betty nuzzled her face into his neck as she found it harder and harder to stay awake. 

 

Soon, all that could be heard was the intermingling of soft breathing. Jughead was infatuated with how she said that she trusted him and had found it a little harder to fall asleep. Just before his eyes closed for the last time that night, Jughead placed a feathery kiss into Betty’s blonde hair. The side of his head fell limp against the top of hers.

 

Acclimating to the new person next to his charge, Hot Dog found and open spot on the bed, curling into a ball next to the blonde.

 

Now, Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones had been forged in their trust and budding friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations! You survived! All 27 pages! 
> 
> Good for you, Glenn Coco! You go, Glenn Coco!


	4. expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> expectations: a belief that someone will or should achieve something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter is thirty. pages. long. I shit you not. After that episode last night, it took all of my strength to continue writing this instead of writing a oneshot for the sexual tension at the end of 3X15.
> 
> You're welcome. 
> 
> THIRTY. GODDAMN. PAGES.

The sun shining unapologetically in Betty’s face woke her the next morning. She brushed a piece of blonde hair out of her face as she realized where she was. Betty was shocked at herself. She would never just ask someone she barely knew to sleep next to her. And she would never think that someone would actually  _ do it. _ She felt almost weird thinking that this position she was in was actually comfortable... and soothing. 

 

_ Cathartic, even, _ she thought. Shaking the idea, she accepted what her anxious self had done the night before. 

 

A strong arm held around her shoulders and pulled her into Jughead’s chest. She almost felt invasive as she remembered that she used his shoulder as a pillow. Summoning her courage, she looked up to where she expected him to still be asleep. Looking down on her was a kind face that had a smirk written across it. 

 

“Hey,” Betty whispered. 

 

“Sleep well?” 

 

“Yeah...” Eager to make light of the situation, Betty continued. “You make a good pillow.” 

 

_ No, that’s too creepy, _ she thought to herself. 

 

He exhaled through his nose as a laugh. 

 

_ He didn’t think that was weird... _ she assured herself. 

 

“How long have you been up?” 

 

“I only watched you sleep for about a minute or so,” Jughead told her. “I’m not a creep.”

 

“I know you’re not,” she replied.  _ Was she flirting?!?!  _ “Thanks for being my pillow.” 

 

“That’s what friends are for.” 

 

_ Too strong... TOO STRONG, COOPER, _ she thought. 

 

“Is that what we are now?” Betty asked.  _ Stop flirting, _ she told herself. “Friends?” 

 

“We might as well be,” he replied. 

 

“Well, I think it’s a good place to start,” Betty said.  _ What are you doing?! _

 

“Buds?” Jughead asked, offering her a fist bump.  _ Oh. He’s being cool about it.  _

 

“Buds,” she agreed, connecting their knuckles. 

 

**\---**

 

Veronica almost spit out her coffee when Betty emerged from her room with Jughead and Hot Dog right behind her. 

 

“V?” Betty asked, seeing her friend choke down the coffee harshly. After swallowing, she spoke. 

 

“Fuck,” she stated. “Don’t give me a heart attack like that.” 

 

“Uh... how did we do that?” Jughead asked. 

 

“You two...” she pointed between the both of them.  _ “Together.” _ She began to take another sip of coffee. 

 

“You were the one that left us alone last night,” Jughead replied. Veronica actually spit out her coffee this time, but it all went back into the cup that was held under her lip. 

 

“B!” She yelled. 

 

“Jughead, wait,” Betty said, looking to her bodyguard then back at her friend. “V, it’s not what you just imagined.” 

 

“That’s not what  _ he _ just implied!” Veronica exclaimed. 

 

“Not what I meant to imply,” Jughead said, leaving Betty’s side and heading to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. 

 

“Then what  _ did _ happen?” Veronica asked Betty. 

 

“I had a nightmare last night and--” 

 

“JUGHEAD JONES!” Veronica screamed, turning towards the kitchen, where Jughead was standing as still as can be, almost frozen. He turned around slowly, putting the coffee down, and facing the women with a guilty look on his face. 

 

“Veronica, I--”

 

“I  _ told you _ to  _ tell me _ if something happened! That counts as  _ something!” _

 

“I meant to, I just--” 

 

“You  _ what, _ Jughead? You better have a good reason for this!” 

 

“It’s my fault!” Betty said. Veronica turned to face the blonde. 

 

“What?” Veronica asked. 

 

“I mean, I didn’t tell him not to tell you, V. I didn’t even know that he was supposed to call you. I just... I had my nightmare, he came and helped me after I woke up screaming, and before he was about to leave and to call you, I presume, I asked him to stay with me.” 

 

“Is this true?” Veronica asked him. 

 

“My phone has been out here all night,” Jughead replied. “I didn’t have a chance to get to you, Veronica. I’m sorry. I was going to tell you, really.” Veronica turned back to Betty. 

 

“Did he take good care of you?” she asked. 

 

“Yes,” Betty replied. Her best friend turned back to the bodyguard. 

 

“All is forgiven, then,” Veronica said, sitting back down. Jughead smiled towards the coffee maker as he poured out two cups of coffee. He heard Betty sit down next to her friend as he fixed Betty’s coffee how she liked it. Turning around with the two drinks in his hands, Jughead walked over to the dining room table, setting Betty’s coffee in front of her. 

 

When he walked around her and sat on her other side, Betty’s eyes followed him, smiling. Jughead let his own grin slip onto his face as Veronica looked at them, seriously confused. 

 

“So we’re comfortable around each other now?” she asked. “When did this happen?” Betty and Jughead looked at each other, trying to communicate non-verbally who should speak first. Jughead looked into Betty’s doe-like, green eyes and gave in almost immediately. 

 

“Last night, I guess,” Jughead replied. “After the convention and after I helped her--” 

 

“I knew I was able to trust him,” Betty interrupted, looking directly at Veronica. 

 

Jughead smirked into his cup of coffee. 

 

_ She trusts me, _ he thought. As Veronica and Betty changed the subject, Jughead absentmindedly sipped his coffee. 

 

Why did her trust make him so giddy? She was strong, independent, and smart. She was also a kind, thoughtful person with a personality that had you coming back for more every time. Her eyes drew him in, her hair glimmered, her smile radiated, and her cheerful giggle rang throughout the room, infecting others with laughter. No one could help but grin stupidly when Betty Cooper was happy. 

 

He had watched her sleep for about five minutes, her small body cradled in his arm and her delicate hand resting on his torso. In the morning sunlight, she looked so pure, so ethereal, that Jughead thought it had all been a dream. He thought he’d imagined the post-nightmare, semi-distraught blonde author asking him to stay in the bed with her. He thought he was hallucinating again when she’d asked him to hold her. 

 

When she pivoted her face to gaze up at him, he’d immediately caught her strikingly emerald line of sight. There had been a small look of surprise in her eyes before he felt her relax in his hold again. She’d been so calm after waking up and seeing his face. 

 

He still hadn’t truly known if she’d been flirting with him, if she was cracking jokes, or if she had just been that sarcastic after waking up. Maybe she’d just been in a sleep-induced haze and didn’t know what she was saying. Either way, Jughead believed every word that had tumbled from her lips. 

 

He was pulled from his own head when he realized he was out of coffee. He looked down into the cup, slightly disappointed. Then he realized that he was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. He quickly excused himself from the table, put his cup by the sink, and made his way inside his bedroom. 

 

Running a hand through his hair, Jughead made his way into his bathroom, turning on the shower. He rid himself of his clothes and stepped under the water. It soaked his hair and skin, water cascading down his body. He found the sensation refreshing as he washed his hair and scrubbed his body. After he deemed himself clean, Jughead dried himself off with a towel and got dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. He finished up in the bathroom after brushing his teeth, shaving, and running a comb through his hair. 

 

Jughead picked up a book, something by Hemingway, and was about to leave when he saw his suit jacket still on its hanger from the day before. He tossed the book back on his bed before checking the suit jacket to make sure it didn’t need a trip to the laundromat. He lifted it up by the hanger, looking over the front, which he deemed acceptable. He spun it around to see the back. 

 

He squinted his eyes to see exactly what was on the back. He still couldn’t tell what it was, so he moved into the light coming through the window. Looking it over again, Jughead saw about four brownish marks on the back, in a diagonal line. Close to that, he spotted four more in a different location. They were just barely visible on the black suit, but Jughead could see the marks. 

 

_ What is that? _ He asked himself.  _ What would have even touched this yesterday? _

 

He remembered the convention. He couldn’t remember a specific time where he would have sat in a chair with those specific marks on the back. 

 

“I guess this one’s gotta go to the cleaners,” Jughead said to himself, running a few fingers through his dark hair. He placed the jacket back where it was, picked up his book, and left the room, still confused about the eight stains, but resolving not to think too hard about them. 

 

**\---**

 

The weekend was usually pretty peaceful. No one in the house had to work on weekends, so they mostly sat around watching movies and running errands. Betty would occasionally work on her computer to have a headstart on her column for the next week, but to the rest of her roommates’ surprise, she didn’t even touch it this weekend. 

 

When Jughead came back out with his book and planted himself on a couch, he saw Betty pulling up Netflix as Hot Dog sat next to her. As he was about to put a dent in Hemingway, Veronica was out the door, claiming something about “groceries.” Betty waved her off, still browsing titles. Without another distraction, Jughead finally opened his book and started reading. He was able to get two pages before something else made him look up. 

 

It was the sound of a clock tower, chiming. Then children, singing a hymn. 

 

_ Wait a minute, _ he thought to himself, glancing at the TV screen. 

 

Closing his book in surprise, Jughead looked over at the blonde next to the white sheepdog. 

 

“Good choice,” he said, setting down his book and getting comfortable. Betty looked over at him. 

 

“You like--” 

 

_ “Rebel Without a Cause?” _ he interrupted. “Yeah. It’s only my favorite.” 

 

“Mine too,” Betty replied. “I knew you were a literature fan. I didn’t know that stretched into classic film.” 

 

“Oh, definitely,” Jughead replied. “Classics are classics. Never enjoyed  _ Gatsby, _ though.” 

 

_ “The Great Gatsby?” _ Betty asked. “No, I liked that one.” 

 

“You want me to like a symbolic green flashing light? And a guy who pines over a married woman? A man,  _ I might add, _ that throws extravagant parties to try and attract said woman, and ends up disappointing her by asking too much? No thanks. I’ll stick to Hemingway.” 

 

“I read  _ A Farewell to Arms _ because my terrible tenth grade English teacher told me to, and it turned me away from Hemingway permanently,” Betty told him. 

 

“Well, whoever that awful person was ruined Hemingway for you, and I apologize,” he said. “That’s not the best work of his to begin with, especially when you’re fifteen and reading about a patient-nurse relationship that turns romantic.” 

 

“That, and his blunt language,” she countered. “I never liked the way he described women, and the ending was too depressing for my tastes.” 

 

Jughead scoffed sarcastically.

 

“A stillborn child and a mother that has multiple hemorrhages, which cause her death, too? And the father walking home, alone, in the rain? That’s not your idea of a happy ending?” he asked sarcastically. She giggled. “So, what  _ are _ your tastes, might I ask?” 

 

“I like Toni Morrison...  _ a lot.” _

 

Jughead wasn’t too shocked. 

 

“I’m guessing...  _ The Bluest Eye?” _ he asked. 

 

“Yeah, that’s the one that got me hooked,” Betty replied. “Also,  _ Song of Solomon, Sula, Paradise, Jazz, Home,  _ and _ Love. _ I love all of her works.” 

 

“What about  _ Beloved?” _ Jughead asked. That was the only one he’d read in his tenure at Seaside High School. That was the only book he hadn’t purchased for himself after he had money to reread all of those novels. 

 

“I want to read that one, but I don’t have a lot of time on my hands,” she said. 

 

“I see,” he replied.  _ Noted, _ he thought. 

 

“I’m more of a Capote girl than a Hemingway girl,” she said. 

 

“I always liked Capote more anyways,” he replied. 

 

_ “In Cold Blood,  _ really,” they said at the same time and laughed. Jughead watched the way her nose scrunched and her eyes crinkled as she giggled. It was nearly angelic. 

 

They kept talking about books. He found that her first book report for English was on H.G. Wells’  _ The Time Machine, _ “Even though the movie was shit in comparison,” she’d told him. He told her that his was on S.E. Hinton’s  _ The Outsiders. _ They agreed that  _ The Swiss Family Robinson _ by Johann David Wyss was  _ really _ not as interesting as they first imagined it would be. 

 

“That one was a pain to get through,” Jughead told her. “It was  _ so long, _ and it only spoke of moving from shelter to shelter and making do with the food they could find.” 

 

“No one even found them in the end, what was the point?!” Betty exclaimed. 

 

“That was my opinion  _ exactly _ in the eighth grade,” Jughead agreed. When he looked up, he realized that he’d moved onto the couch she was on. Hot Dog was eyeing him across Betty’s lap now. Jughead and the sheepdog broke their gaze when Betty’s other two roommates emerged. 

 

Cheryl came out first, followed closely by Toni. 

 

“Well good morning to  _ you,” _ Betty stated, as they were both obviously hungover. 

 

“Eat it, Coop,” Toni said a little more seriously than intended. 

 

“She’s got a headache, B,” Cheryl explained. 

 

“Thank you, Toni Translator 5000,” Betty replied. 

 

“I only came out here for coffee and aspirin, then I’m going  _ back to bed,” _ Toni grumbled from the kitchen. 

 

Betty leaned over to Jughead. 

 

“Toni  _ hates _ headaches and being sick,” she whispered. “She doesn’t like to feel like she can’t do anything.” Jughead nodded, suppressing a laugh. “Cheryl doesn’t mind them.” 

 

“I figured,” Jughead replied, causing Betty to break into a smile. 

 

“I don’t know why you’re smiling, Cooper, Jones, because I see nothing to grin about,” Toni interjected loudly, heading back to her room with a cup of coffee. 

 

“Go back to bed, TT,” Cheryl told her girlfriend as the pink-haired girl rounded the corner down the hallway. Toni left, grumbling something about  _ Fuck this hangover bullshit. _

 

_ “Rebel Without a Cause,  _ B? Again? You just watched this last week.” Cheryl sat down on one of the vacant couches with her coffee cup in hand. 

 

Jughead looked at the TV screen. They were already two thirds of the way through and they hadn’t even really watched it. Betty must have noticed this too because she let out a small  _ Oh. _

 

“Uh... We haven’t even really watched a lot of it,” Betty told her ginger friend. Cheryl looked at them, puzzled. 

 

“Betty, this is your  _ favorite movie.” _

 

“And it’s mine, too,” Jughead replied. 

 

“Hold on,” Cheryl said, setting her coffee on the table in front of her. “Don’t tell me that you have ignored this movie with that  _ hottie _ James Dean in it.” 

 

“Cheryl, you have a  _ girlfriend,” _ Betty interjected. 

 

“I have eyes, Bettykins. And don’t change the subject. When did you two become so chummy?” 

 

“Well don’t freak out,” Betty told her. “But last night--”

 

“You  _ didn’t!” _

 

“No, we did _ not, _ Cheryl,” Betty replied immediately, absentmindedly stroking Hot Dog’s head. “I had a nightmare last night and Jughead was the only one here--” 

 

“So he helped you out,” Cheryl finished for the blonde. Betty nodded. “Good. I’m happy that you two can be friends.” She picked up her coffee cup once more and leaned back into the couch cushions, taking a long sip of coffee. 

 

“And we slept together last night,” Betty added. 

 

Cheryl nearly choked. Her head bolted forward, her eyes widened, and she struggled to keep her drink in her mouth. 

 

“Not like that,” Jughead explained. “She invited me, and I accepted  _ \--don’t give me that face. We were clothed.” _ Cheryl was able to swallow the coffee harshly before speaking up. 

 

“Well that’s a lot to take in,” the red head replied. 

 

Just then, the elevator doors opened on the other side of the room. Veronica came in with Archie, both holding grocery bags on their arms. 

 

“Thank you, Archibald. Right over there, if you would,” the raven-haired woman instructed. The ginger placed the bags down on the kitchen counter, then turned to the people on the couch. 

 

“What’s up, Jug,” he said, holding up a hand in greeting. 

 

“Hey, Arch,” Jughead replied. 

 

“Betty, Cheryl,” he continued. 

 

“Hi, Archie.” 

 

“I’ll see you guys later,” Archie said, stepping back in the elevator. 

 

“Bye,” they all said as the doors closed. Cheryl immediately turned to Veronica. 

 

“Ronnie, did you know that these two  _ slept together _ last night?!” the ginger asked. 

 

“Yeah,” Veronica replied. “They told me this morning when they came out of Betty’s room together.” She set down her Valentino purse, a gift from her father, before continuing. “Anyways... Where’s Toni?” 

 

“She’s got a headache,” Betty replied. “Came out, got coffee and Advil, then went back to bed.” 

 

“Cranky, I presume?” 

 

“Definitely. She got mad at Jughead and I for smiling.” 

 

“She could probably use some food, but I don’t know if she’d get mad if someone takes it to her. She hates feeling useless.” 

 

“That was the only reason I didn’t offer,” Cheryl added. 

 

“I think that for the sake of all of us, you should go and ask,” Veronica proposed. 

 

“Alright,” Cheryl said almost sluggishly, getting up and going down the hall to Toni’s room. 

 

“On a more cheerful note,” Veronica said to Betty and Jughead, “I got a call from The Midge and Ethel Show about your book, B.” 

 

“What about it?” 

 

“They want to interview you for their show.” 

 

“Really?” Betty asked, looking up at Veronica. 

 

“Yeah. Betty, this is  _ huge. _ First a convention, and now a talk show.” 

 

“Wait, why didn’t they call Toni?” Betty asked. 

 

“They couldn’t get in touch with her this morning. That could be contributing to why she’s so moody, possibly being woken by the calls.” 

 

“That’ll do it. Not even calling Toni when she’s  _ sober and asleep _ would be a good combination,” Betty replied. Jughead stifled a chuckle. 

 

“Either way, they still got in contact with us. I need to reply, you know. Do you wanna do it?” 

 

“Uh... Sure. Let’s do it,” Betty told her. “When would filming be?” 

 

“Next weekend.” 

 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” 

 

“I’ll go call them, then,” Veronica said, turning back to her purse, digging out her phone, and walking to her room. 

 

“That’s big,” Jughead said. “Congrats.” 

 

“Thanks. I’m still getting used to all of this,” Betty told him. 

 

“I think you’re taking it really well.” 

 

“Thank you.” She paused for a moment. “Where were we in our conversation?” 

 

“We were still talking about authors,” Jughead stated. 

 

“You still haven’t told me who your favorite is,” the blonde said. 

 

_ That’s easy, _ Jughead thought.  _ You. _

 

“That, Betts, is for another time,” he said instead, pushing a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ll have to figure that out on your own.”  

 

**\---**

 

Betty quickly became more comfortable around Jughead over the coming week. Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni were amazed as the two spent more and more time together, Betty was almost constantly between Jughead and Hot Dog as they talked and laughed. They were found sitting on the couch together multiple times, simply reading. Veronica had caught them watching movies together when she got home from work, Hot Dog on one side, Jughead on the other. 

 

The blonde was staying out of her room for longer periods of time, mostly to sit next to Jughead with Hot Dog near her. For the first time, all five of the people in the penthouse would come together to watch TV before bed, sharing laughs and smiles. Though Betty was still going to bed earlier than the rest of them, she shocked the whole house Tuesday night when she emerged in her pajamas, nervously asking Jughead to come and sleep next to her.

 

The whole room stopped. The three other women were looking at Jughead as if he were some sort of alien. Feeling the four pairs of eyes bearing on him, Jughead was shocked at the proposal already. 

 

“Um... Sure. Y-Yeah. Just... give me a minute to get ready and I’ll be back,” he said, heading to his room to change into his pajamas. When he went back to Betty’s room, he could feel the three sets of eyes following him to the blonde’s door. He knocked, heard a muffled  _ come in, _ and stepped inside, and shut the door behind him. 

 

He turned to the bed to see Betty with Hot Dog’s chin on her thigh, the lamp next to her was the only light source in the room.

 

“Are you okay?” Jughead asked, running a hand through his dark hair. 

 

“Hot Dog seemed to be hovering over me tonight, and I feel a bit anxious... but I remembered how I felt safe when you slept next to me a few nights ago,” she explained, almost timidly. 

 

“There’s no shame in that, Betts,” he told her, approaching the bed. “I’d be more than happy to sleep next to you if that’s what you need to fall asleep.” 

 

The blonde smiled. 

 

“Thanks, Jug,” she replied, patting the side of the bed next to her as she slid under the covers. 

 

“Any time.” Jughead walked to that side and quickly made himself at home in her sheets. Betty turned off the light next to her as Hot Dog settled near their feet. 

 

“Good night.” 

 

“G’Night.” 

 

Jughead closed his eyes. 

 

“Wait, Jug,” Betty said in the darkness. 

 

“Yeah?” He asked, facing her. 

 

“Can you hold me again?” 

 

“C’mere.” 

 

Betty scooted over to him, letting Jughead wrap her up in his arms. 

 

“Better?” he asked. 

 

“Yeah...” she replied. “Thanks, Jug.” 

 

“No problem, Betts.” 

 

They both fell asleep almost immediately after Jughead kissed the crown of Betty’s head.

 

Betty woke the next day with Jughead holding her close to his body, cradling her ever so gently yet firmly. At first, Betty thought she caught a glimpse of Malachi, but she knew the feeling of his hands were different. Jughead’s grip was much more caring, much more genuine than Malachi’s had ever been. Betty told herself this, and was able to relax in his hold. 

 

His nose had been tucked close to her neck as he breathed gently against her skin. The blonde woke him up by pushing his dark chocolate hair away from his eyes. His eyelids flickered open after noticing the feathery touches of Betty’s fingertips, revealing a set of crystal blue eyes. When their eyes locked, she giggled, causing him to hold her even closer to him. 

 

“Juggie, we have work!” she whispered. 

 

“Juggie? That one’s new,” he replied sleepily. Betty hadn’t even realized she’d said it. “I don’t wanna.” 

 

“C’mon, let me go!” Betty said. “I don’t need McCoy or McCoy Junior getting mad at me for being late.” 

 

“Okay, fine. As long as you can tell me that you don’t feel anxious anymore. Then I’ll let you go.” 

 

“I don’t, Jug.” She’d completely forgotten about her anxiety from the previous night, thanks to him. “Let me goooo!” 

 

“Five more minutes,” he pleaded drowsily. 

 

“You’re a goof.” 

 

“You’re my best friend,” he slurred before letting his eyes shut again. “My favorite book nerd...” he trailed off. 

 

Betty blushed and giggled, pushing his dark locks away from his face again. 

 

“Mmm...” he groaned at her touch. 

 

“You like that?” 

 

“Mhmm.” 

 

“C’mon,  _ best friend,” _ she mocked. “We gotta go.” 

 

“Uuuuuuugh,” he grumbled. “Fine.” 

 

Jughead let go of Betty, allowing the blonde to slip out of his grip. Betty suddenly felt colder without his embrace once he got himself out of her bed. 

 

“Hey,” he said, looking at her from the foot of the bed. “This is a two-way street. If you’re not gonna get up, then I’m coming back.” 

 

“Jug, no--” 

 

With a smug grin on his face, he ran over to her side and threw the covers off of her body. He and Betty laughed as her body convulsed so that her knees were pulled up to her chest. 

 

“Juggie!” she yelled through her laughter. 

 

“C’mon, blondie. Can’t be late, like you said.” He picked her up and slung her playfully into a fireman’s carry. 

 

“Jug!” she giggled. Betty could hear him chuckle and felt the vibrations of his laughter through his shoulder. The blonde watched her door open, revealing none other than Veronica Lodge. 

 

“What the hell?” she asked. Jughead turned around to face the noise, causing Betty to be turned around to the back wall. 

 

“Hey, Veronica.” 

 

“Put the blonde author down, Jones.” 

 

Jughead did as he was told. Betty giggled all the way down. 

 

“Morning, V,” Betty greeted. 

 

“Do you two realize how  _ loud _ you were?” 

 

“Yep,” Jughead said proudly. Betty snickered into her hand. Veronica rolled her eyes. 

 

“Stop fooling around. You two need to get to  _ The New York Times. _ B, you know how mad McCoy Junior gets when you’re late.” 

 

“Yeah...” Betty sighed.

 

“Okay, fine. I’ll leave,” Jughead replied, exiting the room behind Veronica. 

 

By some miracle, Betty, Jughead, and Hot Dog weren’t late to work. Besides the morning episode, everything that day had been normal. 

 

Betty and Kevin worked on their article in peace, only occasionally speaking to each other about it. Hot Dog was laying contently in his corner bed by the wall of windows out to the New York streets. Jughead listened to the sound of the computer keyboards clicking over Kate Chopin’s  _ The Awakening. _

 

Close to 11AM, Hot Dog got out of his bed and went to sit by Betty. The blonde was unfazed by his movement, only acknowledging it with a short scratch behind the ears. Jughead had noticed the absence of the white sheepdog immediately because it was hard not to see that the ball of white fluff had moved. 

 

Kevin went for lunch about thirty minutes later. Jughead was able to put down his book and have a conversation with Betty about the new Netflix special that she and Kevin were writing about,  _ The Umbrella Academy. _ He said that he hadn’t seen it yet, and she was beginning to give him a quick overview when someone else made an appearance in their office. 

 

“Cooper!” a strict voice called as the body of said voice entered the room. Her eyes did not remove themselves from the clipboard she was holding, writing intently.

 

“J-Josie. How unexpected,” Betty greeted, standing up. Jughead immediately noticed Betty’s nervousness in front of this  _ Josie. _

 

“How’s this week’s article coming along?” she asked, still writing. 

 

“We’re... getting there.” 

 

“Well, I’m going to need you and Keller to  _ get it there _ by tomorrow.” 

 

“Our column doesn’t have to be submitted until Friday morning. It’s Wednesday, Josie--” 

 

“I’m aware of what day it is, Cooper.” The woman had finally looked up at Betty and made eye contact. 

 

Jughead’s eyes flashed back and forth between the two women as the conversation continued. He watched the changes in body language. Betty was starting to cower under the vision of the strong-willed African American woman. He also saw that the blonde’s fingers had curled into her palms. Her knuckles were turning white and Jughead thought he saw a splash of red. 

 

“Everyone’s column and article dates for this week have been moved up to tomorrow so that we can figure out how we’re going to work this new formatting thing,” Josie said. “I don’t know what it’s going to do. But that’s not my priority. I don’t need to know how it works, I need to make sure that everyone gets their things in on time. Am I understood, Cooper?” Her eyes went back to her clipboard before waiting for an answer. 

 

“Y-Yes, Josie.” 

 

“Ensure that my message is passed on to your friend Keller. You know how I hate saying things twice.” 

 

Josie sashayed out of the room, clipboard tucked under her arm. Jughead watched her go, then spun and saw Betty flop back into her chair, palm pressed to her forehead. 

 

“Are you okay?” Jughead asked. Betty began to pull her hand away from her face. 

 

“I’m not sure--” 

 

“What’s that?” Jughead asked, pointing to her forehead. 

 

“My... face? Jug, what--” Betty looked at her palm with wide eyes. “I... I just...” 

 

“Did you do that to yourself?” Jughead asked. Betty didn’t reply so he got up and stood next to her. She was bleeding by four marks on each palm. He made a quick connection to a particular suit jacket. 

 

“Do you have a first aid kit in here?” he asked. 

 

“Kevin’s desk,” Betty replied simply. Jughead dug around until he found a small white box. He pulled up a chair next to the blonde, making her keep both bleeding palms open and on her desk. 

 

He didn’t ask questions as he tended to her. He simply took the disinfectant and cleaned each palm, then wrapped a bit of gauze around the marks so that her nails couldn’t do it again. When he was done, he taped the ends of the gauze down. 

 

“There,” he said. “Good as new.” 

 

“H-How did you know?” Betty asked. 

 

“I found eight marks identical to these on my suit jacket from the convention,” Jughead replied. “I never realized they were yours until just now.” He paused. “Why do you do this to yourself, Betty?” 

 

“I never meant to,” she replied. “It’s all I’ve been able to do when I’ve felt anxious or out of control. Every time they start to heal, I end up opening them again. It’s a never-ending cycle.” 

 

“So... at the convention... when that guy was there...” 

 

“I did it under the table.” She paused. “I mean, I think I did. I’m not sure. I must have at some point because I got that blood on your suit--” 

 

“You were holding onto me pretty harshly that day when I got you away,” Jughead added. “You must have opened your fists and grabbed my suit.” 

 

“I’m sorry.” 

 

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay.” 

 

“But it’s not,” she replied. They were silent for a minute as Jughead ran his thumbs over the gauze, trying to soothe her nerves.

 

“Can I ask one thing, though, Betty?” Jughead asked, looking in her eyes. She nodded. “Can you try to stop?” 

 

“You think I haven’t tried?”   
  


“That’s not what I said,” he replied. “Can you try again?” he asked. “For me?” he paused again. “I hate seeing you in pain.” 

 

“Okay,” Betty replied. “I’ll try. Just for you.” 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Yeah,” she replied. “It’s time I broke this habit.” 

 

“Just one more question,” Jughead implored. 

 

“What is it?” 

 

“Do Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni know you do this?” he asked. 

 

“If they do, they’ve never mentioned it to me,” she replied. “I don’t like them worrying too much about me all the time anyways.” 

 

“For your sake, this will be our little...  _ project.” _

 

“Project?” 

 

“An initiative, really,” he replied. “To stop whatever this is. And I won’t tell them.” He paused, offering his hand. “Deal?” 

 

“Deal,” she replied, shaking his hand. 

 

**\---**

 

Because of Josie’s unpredicted appearance in Betty’s office that day, the blonde had been distant again that night. Jughead knew that it was only because of the new due date on her article, but she was missing nevertheless. Betty had gone back to hiding out in her room, working double time. She would only come out for dinner, and when she went back to her room she didn’t come out until morning. 

 

When Betty finally emerged from her room the next morning, she looked worn out. It hurt Jughead when he turned around and she was sluggishly making her way towards the kitchen table. His jaw dropped at the sight of her. Just when he was about to walk over there, he was silently told to stay where he was with a hand on his chest, pushing him away. That came from Toni, who went to talk to Betty. 

 

They sat there for a few moments before Toni obviously asked what happened to her hands, pointing out the gauze. Betty quickly dismissed it and asked her friend to politely leave her alone. Toni obliged. 

 

Once she was ready for the day, Betty didn’t look too much better. She was dressed almost the same as she always was, but her face told a story of exhaustion. Jughead tried to ignore the pang in his chest that was tempting him to ask what was going on, to ask if she was okay. When they got into her office at  _ The New York Times, _ and after Hot Dog had settled himself in his bed by the windows, Jughead couldn’t take it any longer. Kevin hadn’t showed up yet, so he closed the door and finally addressed her. 

 

“Betty, are you okay?” he asked. “You can tell me.” 

 

“I know I can,” a weak voice answered. “I’m just tired, Jughead.” 

 

“Well, let’s start there,” he encouraged. “Did you sleep last night?” 

 

“I tried.” 

 

“How long did you sleep for?” 

 

“I got in bed at midnight,” she replied. 

 

“That doesn’t answer my question.” 

 

“I couldn’t.” 

 

“You didn’t sleep?” he asked. 

 

“I slept maybe one hour,” she said. 

 

“You could have come to me, Betty.” 

 

“In the middle of the night?”

 

“Yes.” 

 

“In my stressed-out, anxiety-ridden, exhausted state?” 

 

“Of course!” he replied. 

 

“I don’t know if you can handle that, Jug.” 

 

“Even if I can’t, I’d still try!” he said. “You  _ know _ you sleep better with me by your side!” 

 

“But you’re not always going to be around,” she replied. “They always leave, sooner or later.” 

 

“Who said I was leaving?” he asked. “No one  _ ever _ said I was leaving.” 

 

_ She must have come up with that idea overnight through a fit of self-doubt, _ Jughead thought.

 

“If you stick around long enough, you’ll see the demons, the scars...” 

 

“I’ve seen the ones on your palms--” 

 

“The _ emotional  _ scars, Jughead.” She turned to look at him. He was speechless. “And if you haven’t left before you know, you’ll leave once you  _ do _ know.” 

 

“I’m not afraid of tackling your demons with you.” He stood tall. 

 

“That’s what you say now--” 

 

“No, that’s what I say. End of discussion.” He stopped to let it soak in. “I don’t care what it is that has made you the way you are today, but it was obviously something terrible and awful. Whatever it was has made you so much stronger for it, and you can’t deny that.” 

 

“It made me weaker.” 

 

“No, it hasn’t!” 

 

“I’m the same as I’ve always been, if not worse off. You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.” 

 

“I can’t but your friends can!” 

 

“The hell do you mean by that?” 

 

“I look somewhat like that guy from the convention,” Jughead stated. “I know it and you know it too.” 

 

“No, he isn’t like you,” Betty admitted. “He is nothing like you!” 

 

“How so?” 

 

“You’re so much better a man than he will  _ ever be!” _ Betty yelled. There was a long silence between them. 

 

“You’re stronger for it, Betty. You didn’t trust me when I first came around, but you told me--  _ you, not anyone else but Elizabeth Cooper  _ told me that they trusted me after that night that you had your nightmare. You knew full well that I look like that guy--” 

 

“He’s nothing like you!” 

 

“I never said he was like me, except in his appearance,” Jughead defended. “I look like him. He’s done something to you, that much is clear. You ran away from me multiple times, you didn’t like to see me. But now you  _ trust me. _ Betty, can’t you see it?” he asked. “Can’t you see what the rest of your world sees?” 

 

She shook her head. 

 

“You’re so much braver than you ever thought you were, Betty,” Jughead said. “You’re so much stronger.” 

 

“You’re lying.” 

 

“No. I’m not. Anyone could say that I’m not lying.” He stopped. “Can you believe me?” 

 

They stood there for a moment. Betty’s green eyes were glassy with tears ready to spill. After what felt like an eternity of the two of them standing there, waiting for a response, Betty looked him in the eye, a single tear rolling down her cheek. 

 

“Okay,” she said weakly. “I... I believe you, Jughead.” 

 

“You need a hug, Betts?” he asked. She nodded and quickly walked into Jughead’s arms. She almost knocked him over with the sheer impact of her body colliding with his. They stood there, holding onto each other. Betty didn’t know how much time had passed before she finally let go of Jughead, she just knew that it had been a while. When she pulled away from her bodyguard, Jughead held her shoulders firmly. 

 

“Betty, wait,” he whispered. She turned to face him and their eyes locked. “I know your article is due at midnight. I just... Just promise me that you’ll come find me when you’re done. Hopefully I can help you get some sleep tonight.” She giggled breathily. “Okay?” 

 

“Okay,” she replied. “I’ll come and knock on your door tonight.” Jughead chuckled as Betty went and sat behind her desk. He took his own seat before picking up Chopin again. 

 

**\---**

 

Betty kept her word to Jughead. Around 11PM that night, Betty crept inside his room, climbed in his bed, and snuggled up to him. This woke Jughead, but he was unfazed by the blonde who had joined him. 

 

“I wasn’t expecting you for another hour,” he said after checking his phone. 

 

“Well I finished early, so I thought I’d surprise you,” she whispered, her head against his chest. 

 

“You don’t see me complaining,” he replied, rolling over so that his arm nearly clamped Betty down to the bed. His back faced the ceiling as he pulled her under him. 

 

“This is a little weird for best friends, isn’t it?” Betty asked. 

 

“Yeah, but so long as it helps you sleep, I don’t care.” 

 

“Is that my book on your nightstand?” 

 

“Probably,” he replied, yawning. “Your book is great and I’ve had it for a while now. Can’t stop reading it.” She was going to say something else but he stopped her. 

 

“Shh... You need to sleep, so that’s what we’re gonna do, Betts.” 

 

“But--” 

 

“Shh...” he replied. Her eyes started to close slowly. She didn’t register the kiss pressed to her forehead as Jughead fell asleep next to her. 

 

**\---**

 

The next day was normal for Jughead and Betty until it was time for them to go back to the penthouse. Naturally, a crowd had formed, waiting for her to come out. When Jughead called Archie and Reggie to come down to  _ The New York Times _ building, Hot Dog was monitoring Betty, keeping her hands on his head and licking her face when her breathing became too heavy or erratic. 

 

Jughead still kept an eye on the blonde author while he spoke to Archie. He knew that she wasn’t going to spiral with Hot Dog right in front of her. The sheepdog was good at his job, Jughead knew this. That’s why he wasn’t worried about Betty and Hot Dog over in the corner. 

 

He was also keeping his distance while the dog did his job. He didn’t want to come in between Betty and the service dog. Jughead continued to keep distance between him and his blonde best friend until Archie and Reggie got there. Betty came over to them and immediately took hold of the back of Jughead’s suit jacket for stability. 

 

They made their way through the crowd easily. Betty kept her head down, only focusing on the steps in front of her and making sure that Hot Dog was right behind her, which he was, as always. There weren’t any problems getting in the car, either. Jughead brought her into his side, then ushered her across the car with Hot Dog and hopped in himself. They were gone almost immediately after Reggie buckled himself in and said “Hold on tight.” 

 

When Betty, Jughead, and Hot Dog got back to the penthouse, Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni were in full-on preparation mode. The place was a mess, and it was mostly Cheryl’s mess from all of the clothing and makeup scattered everywhere. Toni was in a corner on the phone and Veronica looked like she was about to give a presentation and she was cramming her brain with all of the information she needed. 

 

“Guys!” Betty yelled into the penthouse. Veronica and Cheryl stopped what they were doing, looking up at Betty and Jughead, who were in utter shock. Toni was still on the phone. “What the hell is going on here?” 

 

“You’re filming with Midge Klump and Ethel Muggs tomorrow for their show,” Cheryl answered. “We have to be there early, so we decided to get everything out of the way tonight.” 

 

“Like what?” Betty asked. 

 

“I’m getting your potential outfits out, Toni is making sure that all publicity things are handled accordingly, and Veronica--” 

 

“I’m making sure that there’s an itinerary for tomorrow,” Veronica interjected. “Right now you should have the rest of the day after lunch tomorrow.” 

 

“What’s for lunch?” Betty asked. 

 

“We were thinking Pop’s together. It’s been a while since we’ve all gone.” 

 

“Yeah, that sounds great.” 

 

“Alright, well we’ve still got some work to do with you here, B. Jughead, if you wouldn’t mind vacating the premises, it would be easier for all of us to get our stuff done with less bodies.” 

 

“Or I could make dinner for you all?” He asked. 

 

“That’s a better idea. Thank you, Wonderbread.” 

 

“That’s  _ Archie,”  _ Jughead muttered grumpily as he walked over to the kitchen. Betty had to choke down a laugh

 

Betty was passed between Veronica and Cheryl for what felt like hours, Hot Dog at her heels. She went back and forth between wardrobe and miscellaneous paperwork things. She felt overwhelmed every time she was pulled away from one task and to another. She was constantly reminded by her fingers that there was gauze on her usual spot of relief. She always glanced up at the bodyguard hunched over the stove whenever her nails craved to dig into her palms. 

 

It was a godsend when Jughead called that dinner was ready. 

 

“Thank god,” she muttered. 

 

Betty was the first one to the table. Hot Dog was right behind her, parking himself as close as he could to her chair. The blonde could tell that Hot Dog was sensing her impending anxiety disaster. Betty knew it was coming, too. She just hoped that she could get to bed before it came to a peak. 

 

Dinner was a peaceful event, much more relaxed than the activities before the meal. It felt too short for the author. It couldn’t last long enough before she was done with her food along with the rest of the penthouse. 

 

Before she could blink, all of the dishes were in the dishwasher and her three friends had all gone back to their work. 

 

Betty looked around the room. 

 

Jughead had disappeared. 

 

Veronica was deep in paperwork. 

 

Cheryl was trying to decide between two different makeup pallets. 

 

Toni was back on the phone. 

 

She could suddenly hear her heartbeat in her ears. 

 

Her whole body began to go numb except for her fingers on one hand, feeling something wet attacking them. 

 

She felt her body began to shake.

 

“Betty, could you come here for a minute?” Cheryl asked. 

 

“Cheryl, if you could spare a minute with B, I need one more signa--” 

 

_ BARK. _

 

Hot Dog snapped Betty and the rest of the penthouse out of whatever work-induced trance they were in. 

 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Betty muttered, breathing heavily. 

 

Before waiting to see if anyone was going to stop her, the blonde ran down the hallway into the bathroom. Hot Dog followed her in before Betty shut the door loudly and slid down, tucking her knees into her chest and wrapping her arms around them. 

 

Hot Dog did nothing but lick her face to get her to loosen up. When that didn’t seem to work, he tried to climb in her lap. Brushing tears away, Betty let Hot Dog push her knees down to the floor and place himself in front of her. 

 

“Good boy,” she whispered through a few more silent tears. Hot Dog licked them away as Betty played with his fur gently. “Good boy, Hot Dog.” 

 

Betty sat there for an eternity, or at least that’s what it felt like. Hot Dog eventually curled up in her lap once she’d run out of tears. 

 

Coming off of the anxiety high was rough, as it always was. She was left feeling sort of like a shell of a person, not quite herself. Everything she did, she could never fully grasp that she was doing it. Her mind was running at a mile a minute. Topics scrolled across her brain so fast that she was forced to be calm, staring off into space. The hand that was petting Hot Dog was doing so without Betty’s full knowledge. Loud noises or sudden movements could shock her, throw her for a loop. 

 

So, when someone knocked on the door, Betty nearly jumped out of her own skin. 

 

“Y-Yeah?” Betty asked. 

 

“B? Are you okay?” Veronica asked. “We’re sorry if we scared you off.” 

 

“C-Can we just finish in the morning? I just... got overwhelmed, and I’m sorry.” 

 

“Don’t apologize for that, girl. That’s our fault.” Betty listened as Veronica stepped away from the door, most likely to speak to Toni and Cheryl. “We’ve still got some stuff to do, but you can go to bed if you’d rather. We know how you like your sleep.” 

 

“Y-Yeah, I want to go to bed.” 

 

“You do you, girl!” Betty heard Toni yell. She chuckled and smiled as a single tear escaped her eye. Hot Dog removed himself from Betty’s lap and the blonde stood up, opening the door. Veronica was holding out her arms. Betty stepped into them, hugging her best friend. 

 

“Love you, B.” 

 

“Love you too, V.” 

 

The blonde then went and hugged Toni and Cheryl individually. She turned towards her room on the other side of the penthouse before asking for Veronica again. The raven-haired woman stepped up to Betty. 

 

“I know this is weird... But can you ask Jughead to come to my room?” 

 

“I know he helps you sleep, B. It’s obvious,” Veronica said. Betty sighed and nodded. “I’ll go get him for you. Go get ready for bed. You deserve it.” 

 

The blonde turned back to her room, making her way across the living room to her door. Betty let Hot Dog in first, then turned on the light. The sheepdog immediately went over to his dog bed and curled up. The blonde grabbed her pajamas and hopped in the shower to wash off rest of the empty feeling. Washing her hair and body was cathartic as she let the suds run down and into the floor drain. 

 

After stepping out of the shower, Betty finished getting ready for bed. The last thing she did was leave her blonde hair down and damp to allow her natural curls to form. With a sigh, Betty opened the door that led her back into her bedroom. Her eyes landed on Jughead. 

 

“Oh,” she muttered. “I didn’t think you’d be in here so soon.” 

 

“I just got out of the shower,” he admitted. “I can see that you did, too.” 

 

“Yeah...” 

 

“Veronica said that you’d been overwhelmed by everything they were getting you to do for tomorrow.” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Anxiety attack?” he asked. 

 

“How did you know?” 

 

“I... I used to get them in my early high school years,” Jughead told her. “I know the feeling... the  _ empty _ feeling after.” 

 

“Like you’re--” 

 

“Like you’re a shell of a person.” 

 

Betty nodded. 

 

“You look exhausted, Betts,” he whispered. “You wanna just... go to bed?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

Jughead turned off the light and climbed in the bed first as Betty stood there. 

 

“Are you coming or not?” he joked. Betty cracked a small smile and joined him on the other side. She crawled under the covers and slid under Jughead’s arm. He wrapped his other arm around her, keeping her close to his body. 

 

She noticed how he smelled slightly of sweet lemons...  _ maybe... _ Betty couldn’t be sure. The smell was soothing, coursing through her nostrils and allowing her eyelids to flutter closed. 

 

“Goodnight, Betts,” he whispered. 

 

“Goodnight, Juggie,” she muttered, falling into her endless void of exhaustion.

 

**\---**

 

She felt something moving under her. Shocked by the sensation, Betty’s eyes flashed open, gripping harshly onto whatever was underneath her. 

 

“Gee, Betts,” a sleepy voice muttered. Betty immediately relaxed at the feeling of the vibration of his voice under her. 

 

“Sorry, Jug.” Two strong arms secured her to her position. 

 

“S’all good.” He was still half awake. “Go back t’sleep, Betts.” 

 

She burrowed her face into the crook of his neck when the door to her room opened. The crack of light shone in her face, causing Betty and Jughead to both shift in discomfort, still tangled in each other’s embrace. 

 

“Good morning!” Cheryl yelled, making both of them jump. 

 

“Five more minutes!” They pleaded together. 

 

“You two can sleep in the car!” 

 

Betty and Jughead groaned in disapproval. 

 

“Bettykins, I need to get you dressed, so if you could get your cuddle buddy out, we can get started.” 

 

“Cheryllllllll,” Betty whined. 

 

“Looks like we’re doing this the hard way then,” the ginger replied, flipping on the light. 

 

“Oh, come on!” Jughead yelled. 

 

“Get out, Jones!” 

 

“Fine!” He removed Betty’s arms from around his torso and got out of her bed. Jughead walked out of the room as he glared at Cheryl. The blonde looked to the ginger. 

 

“May I ask what time it is?” 

 

“6AM.” 

 

“Cheryl--” 

 

“No time for complaining. Get up.” 

 

Out of everyone on the earth, only Cheryl Blossom was the person with the power to convince Elizabeth Cooper to get out of bed earlier than she usually did. Veronica and Toni had tried before and failed miserably. Cheryl’s no-shit attitude was the only thing that was able to get the blonde author moving. 

 

After shoving Betty’s morning cup of coffee into her hands, Cheryl showed the possible outfits that she’d picked out for the blonde. She was in the middle of a long sip of coffee when Betty pointed to a dress with a seafoam green, cobalt blue, and white floral pattern along with a pair of sparkly silver heels. It was a sleeveless dress with a flared skirt that came to rest just above her knee. The blonde was very happy with her selection once she put it on, coffee still in-hand. Cheryl did her hair in loose curls and applied a bit of light makeup, then they were done.

 

When she finally left her room with Hot Dog and Cheryl trailing behind her near 7:30AM, Betty saw that everyone else was dressed and ready to go. Veronica and Toni were obviously awake, and Jughead looked like he could use another two to three hours of sleep. 

 

Without many words said to each other, the group of five and Hot Dog got in the elevator and rode down to the lobby of the Pembrooke. They met Archie and Reggie there, who were waiting for them to get in the same Jeeps they did for the convention the previous week. 

 

Once they were all loaded up, Archie started driving towards the filming location for The Midge and Ethel Show. It only took about twenty minutes to get there, but it felt like a lot longer to Betty because she was still tired. When Archie (and Reggie behind him) pulled up to the entrance at the building, there was a large crowd that was anticipating Betty’s arrival to film for the show. 

 

Archie and Reggie had a short conversation via earpiece, communicating that Reggie was going to make sure that Cheryl and Toni made it in safely, while Veronica was with Archie, and Jughead was going to take Betty and Hot Dog. Once all of the women were inside, Archie and Reggie would come back and take the Jeeps to park them. 

 

Betty watched through Archie’s side view mirror as Reggie ushered Toni and Cheryl into the building. Archie was next to get out with Veronica, showing her inside. After they disappeared into the building, Jughead put on a pair of sunglasses, got out of the vehicle, and walked all the way around. He opened Betty’s door. 

 

Cameras began to flash, people erupted into cheers, and Betty suddenly wished that she’d brought sunglasses, too. Jughead offered his hand to the blonde and she took it, descending from the backseat. Once her feet touched the ground, Betty stepped back to let Hot Dog hop out. He made his exit swiftly. 

 

As they all began to walk inside, the cameras continued to flash as Betty offered up gentle smiles and friendly waves. Jughead and Hot Dog had sandwiched the blonde between them protectively. The sheepdog was treading next to her heel and Jughead had placed an arm close to the small of her back, but he refrained from touching her. 

 

When they finally made it inside, Reggie and Archie ran back to the Jeeps, promising to be back later. The rest of the party kept moving, finding the filming suite for the Midge and Ethel Show. They were shown to backstage, where Betty had her makeup touched up by Cheryl before the blonde met Midge Klump and Ethel Muggs. 

 

They all spoke about how the process would work. They would film Betty’s segment, which would take about thirty minutes or so, ask questions about her book, address some fan questions that had been sent in, then Betty would be ushered in to do a promotion photoshoot. Once they were done, they could go. 

 

Before they started, Betty, Midge, and Ethel found a few fan questions that the blonde deemed appropriate for conversation on  _ Behind Closed Doors: What Being a Valedictorian is Actually Like. _

 

They started filming, and it wasn’t as amazing as Betty imagined it was going to be. There was a live studio audience, but other than that, it felt like a normal interview. They didn’t ask much about Polly, so that was nice, but there was a good amount of discussion about her parents and their high, “almost impossible to reach” (as Midge put it) expectations. There were nowhere near as many people as there were at the convention the previous week. Even the fan questions weren’t bad (fan questions could often be blunt or invasive). Hot Dog kept his place my her side through the whole thing, even though she wasn’t feeling too anxious. 

 

When they were done, it was a large relief off of Betty’s shoulders. They had to wait until the director said they were good, Betty was thanked for her time by Ethel and Midge, then she was shown to the photoshoot area. That was the grueling part. The photographer wanted specific angles and lighting. Betty was lucky to have survived without getting too impatient. Hot Dog had to stand to the side with Veronica, so he wasn’t too happy about that. 

 

They were done around noon, just as Veronica had predicted the previous night. Before she knew it, Betty and her friends had set foot outside the building and were being led back to the Jeeps by Archie, Reggie, and Jughead. On the way to Pop’s, Archie turned on the radio and let the music fill the car. Betty had a large smile on her face the whole way there because of the successful interview. Jughead couldn’t help but to look over every so often to glance at the dazzling grin she’d put on her face. She was just so happy. 

 

“It’s been so long since we’ve all been here together,” Cheryl said after Reggie and Archie went to find a place to park. They all walked inside the diner, the little bell jingling upon their entrance. 

 

“Hiya, Pop,” Jughead greeted the jovial older man at the counter. The rest of the women went to a booth and sat down.

 

“Jug! So good to see you again. Did you finally get yourself a date?” he joked. 

 

“Strictly business,” he replied, waving a finger at him. 

 

“I should have known. It’s also been a while since I’ve seen those four come into my shop,” he added. “Glad to know my favorites were craving my food.” 

 

“How could anyone not?” Jughead chuckled, heading over to the booth. He saw that Veronica, Toni, and Cheryl were sitting comfortably on one side. He watched Betty get up and offer him the inside seat. 

 

“I need to be on the outside with Hot Dog--” 

 

“That’s fine. No need to explain,” he replied, sitting down. She flashed him a quick smile, then sat next to him. 

 

“I forgot how much I missed this place,” Veronica said. “I remember when we would go to Pop’s back in Riverdale while we were in college.” 

 

“There’s  _ another _ world-famous Chock’lit Shoppe around here?” Jughead asked. 

 

“Pop moved to New York City for the better line of business when we were in our senior year at Riverdale University,” Toni said. “There’s only one now.” 

 

“This place was only  _ one _ of the benefits to us all moving to New York City,” Betty added. 

 

“Yeah, this and all of the publishing firms based in New York,” Cheryl commented. “Bettykins was set on moving here for that and we had to come with her. It’s easier that way.” 

 

“It’s better than Riverdale,” Betty said. 

 

“What, being away from  _ us?” _ a familiar harsh feminine voice asked from behind her. Betty turned around to see the faces of her parents nearing her. The blonde quickly turned around, but they’d already seen her. It was too late. 

 

_ “Shit,”  _ Veronica mumbled under her breath. 

 

“Elizabeth Cooper, we taught you better than to ignore your own parents,” Alice said. 

 

“Maybe if you  _ acted _ like her parents--” Toni began aggressively, starting to stand up. Cheryl pulled her girlfriend back into her seat. 

 

“What are  _ you _ doing here?” Cheryl asked. 

 

“We missed Pop’s being in Riverdale so we thought we’d come up for lunch.” Hal turned back to his daughter. “I see you’re still fraternizing with you college friends,” he said as he and Alice both came to stand at the edge of the table. Betty was looking down at her lap, seeing the gauze in her palms. Hot Dog was growling under the table, facing the Coopers. Jughead watched them all interact. 

 

“You should be ashamed, Elizabeth,” her mother said. “Writing that  _ book _ full of lies for the whole world to see--” 

 

“They weren’t lies,” Betty insisted, averting her gaze to the woman in front of her. “You should know that they weren’t lies.” 

 

“You’re only angry because you and your husband have been blacklisted!” Veronica interjected. Alice and Hal ignored Veronica and kept their attention focused on Betty. 

 

“And going to that convention last week? You put an even larger dent in yourself, young lady,” Hal said. “That’s right. We saw the video.” 

 

“How dare you speak about Polly in that manner, Elizabeth, when  _ you _ are the reason she’s--” 

 

Betty suddenly got up, pushed her mother out of the way, and ran out the door, tears visibly staining her cheeks. Hot Dog was left behind under the table, confused. The blonde ran down the street, past the window they were sitting next to. 

 

Jughead, snapping out of his shock-induced haze, got out of the booth and grabbed Hot Dog’s leash. He shoved Hal Cooper out of the way. 

 

“Fuck you,” he said, running out the door after her. He set foot on the street and saw her a little ways away. He started running towards her. 

 

“Betty! Betty-- wait!” 

 

Something made Jughead freeze. He saw a man that could closely resemble him approaching Betty. The blonde tried to turn around, but he grabbed her and pulled her into an alleyway. 

 

Before he could think, Jughead was running at full speed, Hot Dog right next to him. He curved into the alley, saw the man in question, lowered himself to the ground, and drove his shoulder into the man’s chest. He successfully tackled him and pinned his hands to the ground with his knees. 

 

Betty had fallen over behind the men on top of each other. Hot Dog placed himself in front of Betty, trying to shield her. When she caught her breath, she felt a strong sense of... something. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Jughead felt it too, but he ignored it as he began to punch the man under him. 

 

“Go, Betty! Run!” He yelled.

 

_ Déjà vu, _ Betty thought.  _ That’s what it was. _

 

She’d already seen this before. 

 

She hadn’t just seen it, the words he spoke were almost exactly the same. 

 

And the  _ same voice. _

 

“Jughead--” she muttered. Betty felt two hands on each of her arms, pulling her back. It was Cheryl and Veronica. 

 

“Go!” Jughead yelled. “Run!” 

 

“Come on, Betty!” Veronica said. Jughead punched the man again as they tried to pull the blonde away. She wouldn’t move. 

 

“V, wait!” Betty stood up with Hot Dog’s leash in her hand, watching Jughead beat up the man. He laid one more punch to the man’s face, knocking him out. The blonde took a shaky step forward as Jughead got up. Betty could now see that the man was none other than Malachi Gonzalez. She hadn’t gotten the chance to truly take in his face. Jughead turned around. 

 

“W-Why didn’t you go?” Jughead asked. “I told you to--” 

 

“It was  _ you,” _ she muttered. 

 

“What?” he asked. “We need to get out of here--” 

 

“Where were you around midnight on February 18th?” she asked him suddenly. He froze to the spot. 

 

That was the date he swore he would never forget. 

 

“Right...” He realized where he was after looking around and taking in his surroundings. “Right here.” 

 

There was a pregnant pause between them as Betty took another step forward. He saw the blonde with tear stains down her face in a new light. 

 

“It... it was  _ you...”  _

  
_ “You _ were the one that saved my life that night, Jughead.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, we're in it now.


	5. secure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> secure: feeling safe, stable, and free from fear or anxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in for a wild ride. 
> 
> Might need to grab your tissues. 
> 
> We're back to 20ish pages, my friends.

She felt like she’d been fighting her whole life. 

 

Her parents. She fought for her freedom. She fought long enough to get out of that terrible house on Elm Street in Riverdale. 

 

Her career. She’d fought that battle long and hard with the editor. Every word was perfectly placed and she had to fight to keep those words the same. She was adamant that her story would be published. She fought her way onto bookshelves and the bestseller list. When it got there, she sent a copy to her parents.  _ Read it and weep, _ she’d written on the inside cover as Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni grinned behind her. 

 

Her relationships. She fought and scraped her way out of a particularly bad one. 

 

Her life. For the past two and a half months, she was constantly looking over her shoulder. After a month and a half, Hiram Lodge had hired someone to do that for her. She couldn’t help doing so herself from time to time. 

 

But now. 

 

_ But now. _

 

The person that had been fighting with her, alongside her,  _ for her. _

 

For the past two and a half months, she’d just been grateful to get away almost completely unscathed from the man that was unconscious now. He was lying on the ground with an impending black eye, incapacitated. And all because of the man that looked ironically like him. 

 

Glancing at him now, the man in front of her with the crystal blue eyes, dark chocolate hair, and welcoming arms was still bewildered at their respective realizations. Gears were clicking into place. For her, it was a lot easier to grasp than it was for him. 

 

Dots had been connected, memories had been shared. If he was in awe of the blonde standing in front of him before this, he was even more so now. He knew now what had probably caused his employment as her bodyguard. It was this nearly exact event that had caused her so much pain and suffering that Veronica had to call her father and ask for a bodyguard. 

 

“Betty... I...” 

 

“Y-You saved me, Jughead,” she said with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face. “It-- It was you!” She choked out a laugh and a few tears rolled down her face. 

 

It all made sense now. His voice was calming. His arms were comfortable. She felt safe by his side. Secure, even. 

 

She was full-on crying now. He couldn’t tell if they were tears of joy because they had found each other after nearly three months, or if she was remembering what happened. 

 

“Oh my god,” was all he managed to mutter. He quickly walked over to the blonde and wrapped her up in his arms, holding the back of her head to his chest. The next thing he knew, Archie was getting them to all hop in the Jeeps. Jughead could only comprehend that Veronica must have called Archie at some point. 

 

Jughead was now sitting next to the blonde author, who had clutched onto his suit jacket and hadn’t let go yet. His arm was around her shoulders, holding her there. Neither of them had said much since climbing in the vehicle. They still hadn’t spoken when Archie and Reggie pulled up to the Pembrooke to let them all out. Almost no words were said in the elevator, until Toni proposed, “Pizza?” They all nodded and got out of the elevator as the publicist ordered for the whole penthouse. 

 

It was evident that everyone was still in shock, but also exhausted from the early morning wake up. So when Veronica and Cheryl disappeared and Toni was distracted, Betty pulled Jughead into her room. 

 

“Betty, are you okay?” he asked when she shut the door behind her and Hot Dog. 

 

“I’m just... I’m shocked,” she said. “God, Jug, where do I even start?” 

 

“There’s still a few blurry spots for me about all of this... About  _ you, _ really.” 

 

“Jughead,” she said, approaching him. “I trust you. I really do. I trust you.” 

 

“Why do I feel like there’s a  _ but _ coming?” 

 

“Because there is,” she replied. “I trust you, but I’m not ready to tell you everything.” 

 

“I know that he’s your ex-boyfriend, I know now that he tried to  _ rape--” _

 

“Stop,” she said seriously. Her eyes had darkened. “Yes, those are both true. Yes, he tried to do it again today. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m not ready to tell you more-- and there is more. There’s a lot more.” 

 

“Betty--” 

 

“You put me off when you used that word,” she replied. “No one in this house uses that word because I’ve asked them not to. We don’t revisit the memory of that night lightly.” 

 

“I-I’m sorry, Betty--” 

 

“You know what he did to me that night. You probably heard me coughing and trying to get away from him in that same alleyway we were in today. I think you know enough for right now.” 

 

Jughead backed away slowly. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

 

“Me too.” 

 

He turned around, reaching for the doorknob. 

 

“Wait,” she said. He turned around. “I still trust you, Jughead,” she said. “But--” 

 

“You just don’t trust me enough?” 

 

“No. It’s not that.” 

 

“Then what?” he asked a little more aggressively than he intended. 

 

“I’m just not ready,” she replied weakly. “I... I’ve only had to tell the story once... I don’t know if I’m ready to tell it again.” 

 

Jughead glanced at the floor, nodded once, then left the room. 

 

Betty bit down on her lip, angry at herself for pushing him away. Tears leaked from her green eyes, cascading down. They splashed on the floor like they meant nothing. 

 

She began sobbing quietly, feeling more broken than ever before. 

 

Her nails curled into the white gauze on her palms as she fell to her knees, too weak to continue standing. 

 

She ended up falling asleep, curled up on the floor, a puddle of tears next to her head. 

 

**\---**

 

Jughead never thought he’d felt so hurt before. It wasn’t her pushing back that hurt. 

 

It was the continued distance between them. 

 

It was the way his heart ached when she’d started staying in her room whenever she could. 

 

It was the hurt he felt when she no longer came and asked him to sleep with her, as if she was afraid that he was going to pry. 

 

It was the pain he endured when he saw her tired, day after day. 

 

She hadn’t spoken much to him, and when she did it was definitely not about opening back up to him again. She continued to show that she trusted him. She’d begun to hold his hand and stay as close as she could to him when they went through large crowds. 

 

It was things like this that showed him that maybe she was sorry for pushing back. Maybe she still wanted to be friends. Then again, maybe she didn’t. 

 

Either way, it still hurt him to not talk to her. She had a beautiful soul, one that left you empty when she was angry or frustrated with you. 

 

She was one of those people that could break you if they even  _ looked _ like they were disappointed in you. 

 

The first few nights after she’d marked her distance from him, he cried himself to sleep silently. He, too, found himself brooding in his room. He couldn’t sleep for an hour at a time and would read whatever book he could get his hands on in that moment. One night that book had been  _ Behind Closed Doors. _ Several pages of her writing were tear-stained now. 

 

Now that he was in a much more vulnerable state, the raw take-down of her parents was even more tear-jerking than it had been before. The pages on Polly’s story were littered with small dots of where his tears had cascaded off of his cheeks. The chapters of verbal abuse she received from her parents when she came home with a sub-par report card had been read over and over, stealing all of his emotions without mercy.

 

Her transition into college with her roommate, Veronica Lodge, had been hard to read as well. There was a lot of trauma with her parents in that area. 

 

_ “Phrases my parents would use to gain my attention had bad connotations, even coming from a friend. I had to get used to the comforting tone that Veronica had when she spoke to me. Tone hadn’t mattered in the Cooper household, so long as the point had gotten across.  _

 

_ “What are you doing?” had come to mean “Put that down” or “You’re in trouble, young lady” when I was growing up. I flinched every time someone said the phrase. In college it meant “What’s up?” or “Are you free?” or “I’m genuinely invested in what you’re doing and I want to know more.”  _

 

_ “How was your day?” no longer meant “Did you make the top grade in the class on that test?” That was now a question reserved for expressing how I was feeling emotionally. Was I happy? Sad? Excited? Had I made a new friend? How did that article go over in class? You worked on it for a long time, then you gushed to me about it. I’m dying to know how they reacted to it.  _

 

_ When I was late by two minutes, I wasn’t given a lecture on deadlines and tardiness. A quick apology was made, and it was immediately followed by forgiveness. Then we all moved on.  _

 

**_I didn’t have to apologize for existing anymore._ ** _ I didn’t have to feel the weight on my shoulders that I had carried with me every day after Polly’s death.  _

 

_ “It’s your fault,” my parents had told me. “She would have never gone out if it hadn’t been for you and the argument you had with her.”  _

 

_ Veronica had known that there was something that had caused all of my seemingly weird behavior. There was a past there, and she wasn’t ready to let that go. She was as perceptive as they got. She told me to wait until I was ready before sharing my story with her, if I even wanted to in the first place.  _

 

_ I told her everything sometime the next week. She sat and listened, asking the occasional question. When I was done, I looked up. I had cried through the whole thing. The end was the hardest part to tell, and I could tell that Veronica had been crying too. She got up and walked over to me, placing her hand on my shoulder.  _

 

_ “It’s not your fault,” she told me. “No matter what your parents told you.”  _

 

_ College was the turning point in my life. I excelled in journalism, I made friendships that I knew I would never grow out of, and during the summer before my senior year, I stood up to my parents.  _

 

_ I had found two more roommates over the years, Cheryl and Toni, best friends turned girlfriends. They reacted to my story the same way that Veronica did, and we were inseparable from that moment on.  _

 

_ After a bad fight with my parents over the winter holidays during my junior year, I spent as much time as I could away from them. I was spending the summer with Veronica and her parents when my own parents had called about an article I wrote for the Riverdale University publication. We had a very toxic conversation, and I was in tears as soon as I hung up.  _

 

_ The next day, Veronica called over Cheryl and Toni. We went back to the house I grew up in. We shoved our way past my parents, taking all of my things and loading them into the back of Toni’s truck. As the last one out of the house, my mom grabbed my wrist, trying to lecture me on the “mistake” I was making.  _

 

_ “No, I don’t think so,” I told them. “I’m sick of being your verbal punching bag for all of your problems. You just lost your last daughter.”  _

 

_ “You wouldn’t leave us, Elizabeth,” she added. “You’ll come back.”  _

 

_ “Maybe,” I replied. “After I expose you both for everything you’ve done to me.”  _

 

_ Then I yanked my wrist from her grip, gave Veronica a high-five at the door, and we walked back to Toni’s truck. My parents were standing in the doorway as we pulled away. I flipped them off as we drove off, and I heard cheers from Cheryl and Veronica in the background.”  _

 

It was passages like these that made Jughead realize more than ever that he’d pushed Betty too far. He didn’t mean to. It just happened. He thought that things had been going well, but he apparently got too comfortable with the pace they were going along at. 

 

It wasn’t like he’d forgotten she had traumas. It was anything  _ but _ that. The sudden reveal that he’d punched a rapist off of her jarred him, and he was struggling to fill in all of the blanks. He’d never forgive himself for pushing too far. 

 

**\---**

 

Betty, on the other hand, would never forgive herself for pushing  _ him _ away. 

 

She sobbed into her pillow almost every night with her insomnia creeping upon her. Hot Dog was glad to come up next to her and keep her warm, but it just wasn’t the same as Jughead being with her. Sometimes she was thankful for being unable to sleep. 

 

The tossing and turning was the worst part. She constantly felt like she was uncomfortable. She was either too warm or too cold, nothing was ever the right temperature. She tried reading, those apps with nature sounds, wearing herself out by writing and editing her articles, but to no avail. 

 

On her more anxious days (which she’d been having more often because of the conversation gap between her and Jughead), Betty was more likely to have a nightmare overnight. She figured that if she couldn’t sleep, she couldn’t have nightmares. When she could manage to sleep, it was dreamless and unsatisfactory. 

 

She found herself angry when she was in her room alone. She was angry at herself, her parents, Malachi, anything she could pinpoint her problems on, she pinned them there. She mostly blamed herself. It was her fault, after all, that she pushed away the one person that knew little about Malachi. 

 

She couldn’t count the number of times that she’d gotten up in the middle of the night to stand behind her closed bedroom door, debating whether or not she should tiptoe across the living room to Jughead’s room, apologize profusely, tell him everything, and ask him to hold her. She simply couldn’t find the strength to do that, and usually ended up back in her own bed, Hot Dog curled up next to her. 

 

The days had been torturous. She had decided early on that she couldn’t muster the courage to speak to Jughead until after she’d apologized. 

 

It definitely didn’t help her state of mind when Veronica, Toni, and Cheryl noticed that things had changed. 

 

“We just want to help,” Cheryl told her when Betty had tried to get them to stay out of it. 

 

“If there’s anything to be helped in the first place,” Toni added. 

 

“I pushed him away,” Betty said. “There’s nothing more to say.” 

 

“About what, though?” Veronica asked. “Why did you push him away?  _ When _ did you push him away?” 

 

“It was right after we got back here after that day we were supposed to have Pop’s for lunch together,” Betty said, enlightening them. 

 

“Oh, God,” Veronica gasped. “You weren’t able to tell him, were you?” 

 

“Nope.” 

 

“Why not?” Cheryl asked. 

 

“I wasn’t ready. I’m  _ still _ not ready.” 

 

“Girl, he constantly looks torn up over this,” Toni said. 

 

“I know he does,” the blonde replied. “I am too. I can’t forgive myself for that.” 

 

“Then fix it!” 

 

“I can’t fix it,  _ Ronnie, _ without being able to tell him everything. That’s what made me push him away in the first place.” 

 

And that was the end of that conversation. None of the women were willing to push Betty to tell Jughead anything. That wouldn’t have done any good for anyone. 

 

Veronica had a better idea. 

 

**\---**

 

“Veronica, I’m not supposed to--” 

 

“You’re not supposed to leave Betty alone. I know. Cheryl and Toni are taking over your job today,” Veronica interrupted. “We need to talk, and privately, I might add.” 

 

They were walking down the streets of New York City in the spring, nearly summer, weather (or as close as you could get in New York). Veronica had nearly yanked Jughead out of bed, told him to get dressed, and pulled him into the elevator of the Pembrooke. He wasn’t ecstatic about the whole situation, but he could tell it was important. 

 

“Alright, Veronica. What is this about?” 

 

“You and Betty haven’t spoken in, what? Two weeks now?” 

 

“Three,” he added grudgingly. “I gather she told you about our conversation?” 

 

“She told me enough,” Veronica replied. “You didn’t know about the r-word, and that’s not your fault. She  _ hates _ that word with a passion. And she was right to say that we don’t talk about that night lightly.  _ We don’t.”  _

 

“I... This is kind of intrusive, I guess... But did she manage to get home safely? Like, did you find her somewhere, or did she get back to her apartment by herself?” 

 

“A lot of what happened after the fact is blurry for her. Adrenaline and whatnot. But, yes, she did make it back to the apartment herself. I’d actually stayed up waiting for her because she let me know that she was going to be working very late. Her entrance was noted as very odd, and she passed out upon seeing me there.” 

 

“Oh my god.” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“I tried to follow her out, to make sure she got where she needed to go, but she’d taken off...” 

 

“She’s a quick one, definitely,” Veronica said. “She ran three flights of stairs that night instead of waiting for the elevator.” 

 

“Wow.” 

 

“As much of a feat as that was, this isn’t exactly what I wanted to talk to you about,” Veronica added. 

 

“Then what  _ did _ you want to talk about?” 

 

“She’s not the same since you stopped talking to each other. She’s constantly exhausted. Her eyes don’t pop the way they usually do. You did something for her that she hasn’t done in a while. I mean, you made her  _ laugh. _ And it was genuine, too.” 

 

“Her laughter is contagious,” he added. 

 

“I agree completely. But... she hasn’t laughed in three weeks now.” 

 

“I know.” 

 

“She’s completely torn up about this, and I know you are too. You guys went from being best friends to...  _ acquaintances _ again. That’s a rough shift.” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“She just... She needs  _ time, _ Jughead,” Veronica said. “The only people that know everything about what she wants to tell you are me, Cheryl, and Toni. That’s it. And we can’t be the ones to tell you. Betty needs to do that herself. Maybe she’s still trying to figure out how she’s going to tell you all of it, maybe she’s scared. I have no idea.” 

 

“She said she wanted to tell me,” Jughead added. “She wanted to tell me so bad, I could tell. She just wasn’t ready.” 

 

“She feels like she can’t talk to you until she’s ready.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

“She feels like she owes you an explanation before she can forgive herself enough to tell the story.” She stopped to sigh. “I can tell that she’s mad at herself. And if anything is holding her back, it’s her anxiety.” 

 

“Anxiety about what?” Jughead asked. 

 

“I don’t know. She once explained it to me. It’s like an endless cloudy day, but the clouds are pushing down further and further on you so that you’re suffocating. Only when the sun comes out can you breathe again. Her anxiety is ever-present, always sitting at the back of her mind.” 

 

“That’s deep.” 

 

“That’s Betty for you,” Veronica said. “She’s not herself anymore. She’s not smiling. She’s not  _ sleeping--” _

 

“She’s not sleeping?” Jughead interjected. 

 

“No,” Veronica said. “She can’t. I once found her asleep against her door and when she was half awake and I asked what was going on, she sleepily admitted that she was debating on going to you. I asked her why she didn’t and she dozed off on the floor again.”  

 

“No wonder she looks so exhausted all the time. I had no idea she hadn’t been sleeping...” 

 

“What sleep she does get isn’t good sleep.” 

 

“I wish she would just come to me, no matter if she won’t tell me  _ shit _ about what happened to her.” 

 

“She can’t bring herself to that, and it upsets her. Then she can’t sleep, and her anxiety goes through the roof. Pushing her into telling you anything won’t help. Pushing her into your arms and telling her to sleep when her anxiety has been riled won’t help anything,” Veronica said. “I wanted to get you alone so I could tell you that. We want her to open up, we want her to sleep. She’s just not ready. Betty has a very delicate soul and I don’t want to be the fourth person to break her. I’ll never be able to bring myself to that.” 

 

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Jughead asked. They both stopped walking. 

 

“I don’t know,” she answered. “If she ever does tell you, though... Don’t be the fourth person, Jughead.” 

 

“I won’t.” 

 

“You’ve both broken each other by distancing yourselves...” Veronica added. “So if she ever comes to tell you... just listen to her.” 

 

“I will. I promise, Veronica.” 

 

“Good,” she replied. “We’re here.” 

 

Jughead turned around to see the Pop’s sign. 

 

“Now that we’ve made it, breakfast is on me,” she said, brushing by him to enter the diner. 

 

**\---**

 

Nearly a week later, not much had changed. Betty was still avoiding Jughead and the rest of the penthouse whenever she could, she still wasn’t sleeping well, and her friends weren’t willing to push her into telling Jughead anything. If anything was going to stay constant, it was the last one. They had to give her time. 

 

And they did. They all did. 

 

Jughead went back to the mindset of strictly being Betty’s bodyguard with no personal relationship involved. Of course, he still wanted that, but it was a two-way street. If Betty wasn’t willing to open up, there was nothing to do about it. 

 

“I’ve got to focus on my job,” he told Veronica. “She still needs to be protected whether she wants to interact with me or not.” 

 

Betty was still thankful for his presence when the crowds racked up outside of  _ The New York Times _ building. She knew that he was watching when Hot Dog would sense her anxiety. It was from a comfortable distance that he watched, but she knew he still cared. He was a strong and firm body to lean on through the middle of the crowd, and she appreciated how gentle he was with her. 

 

It was after a day like this that Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni seemed on edge after they got back to the penthouse. They were usually the rocks of the household, but they all seemed jittery after Cheryl showed them something on her phone. They hadn’t been the same for the next few hours. 

 

When Betty came out of her room with Hot Dog, the sheepdog was on edge as well. He stuck to Betty’s side like a magnet, letting out a concerned whine every so often. It was a quiet meal for the most part, and conversation did not come easily. 

 

When they were done, Veronica went with Betty and Hot Dog, Cheryl got a glass of wine for herself, and Jughead offered to help Toni with the dishes. She accepted the help, but seemed not to be in the mood to talk. That was, until Jughead started the conversation. 

 

“So, um...” he began. “Why is everyone so... I don’t know...  _ anxious _ tonight?” 

 

“There’s supposed to be a severe thunderstorm tonight. And uh...” she paused. “Betty gets...” 

 

“She’s not herself?” 

 

“Exactly.” Toni set down a dish and looked up at Jughead. “Veronica is trying to go ahead and get her to sleep so that she doesn’t have to be awake through it.” 

 

“Couldn’t it wake her up, though?” 

 

“Haven’t you ever slept through a thunderstorm?” Toni asked. 

 

“Fair enough,” Jughead replied. 

 

He helped her get all of the dishes in the dishwasher before Toni and Cheryl invited him to watch a movie with them. He denied politely, heading back towards his room. As he reached his door, he heard Veronica emerge from Betty’s room. 

 

“She didn’t want to, but she’s asleep.” 

 

“You remember the last thunderstorm—“ Cheryl began. 

 

“We all remember the last thunderstorm,” Toni added as Jughead slipped inside his room, picking up a book and settling into his bed. 

 

**\---**

 

_ BOOM _

 

_ A slap across the face. _

 

_ FLASH _

 

_ She fell to the ground.  _

 

_ RUMBLE _

 

_ She’d been pulled in by her wrist. The grip was bound to leave yet another bruise.  _

 

_ CRACK _

 

_ Blood was dripping from her nose. There was suddenly something else wet on her face.  _

 

_ CRASH _

 

_ She could see a forming black eye, a busted lip, and the dried up blood under her nose. There was something else... something wet on her face. And she couldn’t tell what it was, but it was almost comforting, like— _

 

Betty gasped back into consciousness, sitting up violently. Her whole body was shaking as she brought her hand to her face, feeling the slobber covering her cheek. She could only seem to hear her heartbeat in her ears and the storm outside as she managed to slowly realize that it had all been a dream. 

 

_ Panic attack, _ Betty thought immediately.  _ It’s coming. _

 

“Good... boy,” she managed to say shakily, finding the sheepdog’s fur and rubbing it only momentarily before—

 

_ FLASH... BOOM _

 

Betty jumped out of her skin, still shaking, and breathing heavily. She was nearly wheezing, clutching a hand over her heart and rocking back and forth. Her vision started to blur, only grey and black shapes in front of her. Hot Dog tried to get her attention, but Betty’s kind could only focus on the rain and wind beating down on the windows. 

 

Tears flooded her cheeks, rolling down quickly and off of her face. Her heart was the only thing she could feel. It was like standing next to a bass drum, letting the pounding reverberate through her body. There was another lightning strike, and a sudden clap of thunder. 

 

Before she knew it, she was crying audibly, standing behind her door. It didn’t take many more of the noises before she’d burst through the door, stumbling over herself with tears in her eyes. She thought she was suffocating, her throat couldn't seem to choke down enough oxygen. Hot Dog was right behind her, trying to claw at her legs to get her attention. She kept going. 

 

Another clap of thunder and she choked out a sob, running towards a door on the other side of the penthouse, nearly faceplanting on the hardwood. She pounded her fist against the wood a few times before resting her forehead against the door, crying audibly. 

 

“Please,” she muttered, though she barely remembered saying the words.  _ “Please...” _

 

_ CRASH _

 

Betty whimpered and jumped back, holding onto herself, tears clouding her vision. She was shaking violently now, awaiting a sense of release that she felt was not coming soon enough. 

 

“Betty,” a husky voice whispered only loud enough to crack through the ringing in her ears. She looked up to see a muscular figure in the doorway. She backed away with a sharp inhale. He stepped into the hall and a flash of lightning revealed him to be, not Malachi as she had originally thought, but Jughead Jones. 

 

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, a few more tears falling off of her face. She ran into his arms, wrapping her arms around his torso as she cried and felt her heartbeat stronger than it had been. 

 

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just rain,” he soothed, stroking the back of her head as he pulled her inside his room and shut the door behind Hot Dog. 

 

There was another rumble of thunder and her whole body tensed, continuing to shake, as she cried and struggled to breathe. 

 

“I’m sorry,” she kept saying. “I’m sorry.” The words had barely left her lips when she had barely registered saying them. 

 

“Shh...” he replied. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” 

 

Betty continued to cry into his shoulder, wincing whenever thunder boomed or lightning lit up the penthouse. He held onto her, letting her know he was there. His shirt was starting to be soaked by the tears she shed. The thunder had died down enough to where Betty had worn herself out by sobbing. He rubbed her back. 

 

“Betty, maybe you should lay down. It’s pretty late,” Jughead encouraged. 

 

“You come too,” she replied choppily, her head fuzzy from the after-effects of the panic attack. 

 

“Of course I will.” She was still shaking as she pulled out of his shoulder. “Come on.” 

 

Jughead climbed into bed first, leaving space for the blonde to get in next to him. She followed him in. 

 

“Can you--” 

 

“Yes,” he replied immediately, holding her to his chest again. Betty snaked her arms around his torso and held on tightly. She sighed and closed her eyes, red and puffy from crying. Her forehead found purchase on the inside of his neck, allowing the smell of him to coax her to sleep. 

 

Jughead held her protectively when the thunder and lightning came back stronger. Her body shook violently again, but she didn’t wake. Hot Dog jumped up on the bed when this happened, pressing his back into Betty’s to let her know he was there. 

 

“Good boy,” Jughead muttered to the sheepdog as his eyelids began to get heavier and heavier. He fell asleep cradling Betty’s body in his arms as the storm died down in the early hours of morning. 

 

**\---**

 

When Jughead woke the next morning, he hadn’t fully expected Betty to still be there. He thought that the banging on his door in the middle of the night had been some sort of dream or hallucination. Her sobbing in his arms could have meant that he was sorry for letting them pull away from one another within his dreamscape. Now that he realized it was real, he never wanted to move again. 

 

Betty was still holding onto him tightly. She seemed to never want to let go. 

 

_ This must be the best sleep she’s had in almost a month, _ Jughead thought. He knew she hadn’t been sleeping well without him. 

 

Her body seemed so much smaller like this. She looked fragile, as if she was the most precious thing in the world. After quickly reminding himself, Jughead knew that she had been broken. Veronica had told him so herself. 

 

“Don’t be the fourth person,” her words rang in his head. 

 

Betty’s body was warm and her hold was comforting. Her face was still buried in his neck from the night before, and her soft breathing was tickling his neck. She sighed against his skin and adjusted her grip on him. Jughead gently placed one of his hands on her shoulder, stroking her skin with his thumb (it was nearly summer, and Betty was wearing a tank top and sleep shorts). She hummed against him before readjusting to place a hand over his shoulder. 

 

Something was different about her hands. Even after a month, Jughead could tell the difference. He gently reached up to the hand that she had just moved, carefully peeling it away from his shoulder. He held her palm in front of him and uncurled her fingers just enough. 

 

He saw the healing wounds in her palms. She’d removed the gauze at some point. 

 

“Huh?” she asked quietly. Jughead felt her head shift. “I haven’t done that since you put the gauze there.” 

 

“I’m just surprised you took it off so soon.” 

 

“I have been trying to control myself, and I think that works better if I remove the barrier.” 

 

Jughead looked into her eyes. 

 

“I’m proud of you,” he said. “Seriously. That’s a large step to take.” 

 

“There are even larger steps out there, Jughead,” she replied. 

 

“Like forgiveness?” 

 

“I forgave you three weeks ago for pushing me over the edge, even if I didn’t voice it,” she replied. “I found it harder to forgive myself.” 

 

“I’m sorry,” Jughead said. “I had no idea that I was taking it too far, and I’m sorry if I hurt you.” 

 

“If I’d forgiven myself sooner it would have caused us both less pain,” Betty explained. 

 

“And have you now?” Jughead asked. “Have you forgiven yourself?” 

 

“Not yet, but I think I can get over it,” she said. “I’m sorry for pushing you away.” 

 

“That doesn’t matter anymore. You’re back. That’s what matters.” 

 

“And so does knowledge,” she replied. “I think it’s time you knew everything, Jughead.” 

 

“You don’t have to--” 

 

_ “I want to, _ Jughead.  _ I want you to know.” _

 

“Then I won’t stop you,” he replied. “I’ll listen.” 

 

She sighed before she began. 

 

“You’ve read my book, so I know that you know a lot. There’s still things you don’t know from that period of my life.” She looked around and saw the book on his nightstand. “May I?” 

 

“It’s  _ your _ memoir,” he replied, grabbing it for her. It had been settled on top of his hardback copy of  _ Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea _ by Jules Verne (quite symbolic to how he’d been feeling this past month, ironically). They both sat up in the bed as she flipped through the pages. This woke Hot Dog, who immediately rested his fluffy head on one of Betty’s folded knees. She drew her face into a concerned look before asking the question that had been forming on her lips. 

 

“Did you take this in the shower? What are these water droplets?” She asked. Betty looked up at him when he didn’t answer and she realized what they were. “Did you  _ cry _ while reading this book?” 

 

“... Yes,” he replied. “It was on and off this past month. The separation hit me hard, Betty.” 

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, placing her hand on his. 

 

“It’s okay, we’re all forgiven now. You can keep going.” 

 

She nodded, flipping through the book again. She stopped on a page. 

 

“Here,” she said. Betty looked up at him again. “I said in here that my parents verbally abused me nearly every day, with and without Polly, but...” she swallowed harshly. “They hurt me physically, too. I got slapped a lot, mostly in the face. I’d been known to get a swollen lip or a black eye occasionally. Random bruises were often scattered on my wrists and arms or on my legs...” 

 

“Betty...” She already had tears in her eyes, but she continued. 

 

“After we got home from the hospital where Polly was pronounced dead, I was beat within an inch of my life and when my grades went down because I was staying home, injured, they hurt me again. 

 

“I said that there had been a bad argument over the winter break during my third year of college that kept me from going back during the summer... That happened because I’d just written an article for Riverdale University’s publication about Polly because it was the anniversary of her death and the editor thought it would be a nice homage to hear from her sister...” she choked up slightly. “My parents got wind of it and beat the shit out of me when I came home. Toni and Cheryl had to sneak me out of my house that night. That was the last night that I spent in that house.”

 

“Was that the only thing you didn’t include in your book?” Jughead asked tenderly. 

 

“Yeah,” she replied. “That’s the only thing I don’t want the whole world knowing about my parents. That... comes too close to home. There was enough there to make my point without it in there anyways.”

 

“I understand,” Jughead said. “But I can tell there’s still more...” 

 

“And there is,” she replied. “A lot of what has happened to me happened after I graduated Riverdale University. I decided, the morning after Cheryl and Toni snuck me out to Veronica’s, that I wanted to write the book.” She was holding it in her hands. “I had started publishing it soon after we all moved out here. I’d wanted to be closer to the publisher and everything, so we stayed. 

 

“I had no reason to go back to Riverdale. I didn’t  _ want  _ to. I remember asking a large portion of my books to be shipped to Riverdale, but I put one in the mail specifically headed to my parents’ house. On the inside, I wrote  _ read it and weep  _ before I sent it off.” 

 

Jughead chuckled lightly at that. 

 

“They didn’t like that. They read it and they haven’t stopped sending me emails about things they think I’ve done wrong. It’s mostly about how I should admit that my book was a lie, which it wasn’t, and take it off of the shelves. I simply sent  _ more _ copies to Riverdale.” 

 

He smiled again, which caused Betty to laugh softly before diving in completely. 

 

“In January, after one of my signings in a Barnes and Noble, I met a guy, and we hit it off. His name was Malachi Gonzalez. He told me that he recognized my name from my book, but that he hadn’t read my book, which was a lie. Things started well at first. We went out on dates like any other couple would. After about two weeks, he tried pressuring me into--” 

 

Betty stopped suddenly. 

 

“You don’t have to say it, Betty,” Jughead said, placing his hand on hers. “I know what you mean.” 

 

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “He tried pressuring me, and I refused. This was one of the first red flags. He started to pick at some of the insecurities I highlighted in  _ Behind Closed Doors. _ He started taking advantage of me, using my book as material for his... I don’t know. It sounds weird to call it a plan, but that’s essentially what it was. 

 

“He tried to get me to move in with him a little later, after he thought I’d forgotten about what he’d done. We settled on me moving closer to him, so I moved out of Veronica’s apartment. He tried to cut me off from them, but I kept refusing to let him because they were my literary team. I  _ needed _ them...” 

 

“Wow,” Jughead interjected softly. 

 

“February 14th came around, you know,  _ Valentine’s Day _ and whatever. He invited me over for dinner, but I realized about halfway through the meal that he was just trying to get me to...  _ stay the night _ with him.” 

 

“I know this is a bit intrusive and possibly ignorant... but why didn’t you leave him earlier?” Jughead asked respectfully. 

 

“I was scared,” she replied honestly. “I was afraid, just like a lot of others are in relationships like those. I was terrified for my life if I made a move before I was prepared to leave no ties behind.” 

 

“Sorry for interjecting,” he said. 

 

“You had no idea, Jug. It’s okay.” She sighed before starting again. “When I refused him again, he gave me a black eye, I left immediately, and I knew that I had to get out of there as soon as I could. I called Veronica as soon as I locked my door. We started moving my stuff out of the apartment that night. Veronica was staying with Cheryl and Toni in their apartment, and they happened to have an extra room, so I took it. 

 

“Two days later, I went to his apartment and broke up with him. He tried to swing on me but I dodged it and ran out the door. When I left, he thought I’d gone back to that apartment, but he went there only to find that I’d finished moving out that morning. Two days after that, he found me on the street, walking home super late from  _ The New York Times, _ pulled me into that alley and--” 

 

Betty choked up completely and started crying. She immediately clung to Jughead, and he caught her in his arms. She told him all she could remember about the night in question. Malachi’s hand on her neck, choking her. How she sprinted back to the apartment she shared with Veronica, Toni, and Cheryl. How she had been traumatized by the events to the point where she had four panic attacks when Veronica was taking care of her. How she only told the story once to Veronica, and how she asked Veronica to tell Toni and Cheryl because she didn’t feel like she had the strength to do so herself. How she had wondered day after day who it could have been that saved her.

 

“We moved out of that apartment two weeks later,” she sobbed. “And a month after that I thought I saw him in front of me, had a panic attack in the middle of a crowd, and kicked Reggie off of me because I thought he was Malachi. The next day, you showed up... and you know the rest...” 

 

Jughead rubbed her back slowly, trying to comfort her. Her tears eventually calmed and he’d gotten an idea of what he wanted to say. 

 

“You don’t deserve that--  _ any _ of what’s happened to you, Betty,” he began. “None of what’s happened to you is your fault, and none of your reactions to me in the past are your fault either. It’s simply... coincidence and bad timing.” 

 

Betty pulled out of the hug, sniffling and wiping her eyes. She sat back next to him, closer than she had been before. Another tear drifted from her eye. Jughead caught it with his thumb and pushed it away. 

 

“The only good thing that came out of that night was you...” she whispered. 

 

“I will punch that shithole as many times as I need to until he learns his lesson, Betts,” he quipped. She let a laugh slip out, followed by a stray tear that Jughead brushed off of her face. “I’m no longer here because I’m being paid to be here,” he admitted. “I’m here because I  _ want _ to be here to protect you... to be  _ with _ you. Your laughter is contagious. I’ve been so lost without it this month.” 

 

“I haven’t been sleeping right,” she said. “I’ve missed you beyond reason, Jug.” She sighed. “Please don’t let me push you away again.” 

 

“I mean, you saw that book. I don’t think I’d be able to take another month away from you before  _ every _ page of it is covered in tears.” 

 

She choked out another laugh. 

 

“I won’t let you go again,” he said more seriously. “It’s obviously bad for both of us.” 

 

“Yeah...” she muttered, yawning. 

 

“You still look exhausted,” he added. Betty nodded. 

 

“That was the best few hours of sleep I’ve had in a month.” She paused and looked between the sheepdog and the door. “Give me a minute and I’ll go back to sleep,” she said, getting off of the bed and walking to the door. She opened it slightly, just far enough for her tastes. Jughead watched as Hot Dog jumped off of the bed, running out of the room. Betty left the door cracked and climbed back next to him. 

 

“He’ll probably need to go outside and then he’ll probably come back. Toni will take care of it when I’m not awake,” Betty clarified as she tucked her legs back under his covers. Jughead wrapped his arm around her shoulders as he nodded, pulling the blonde into his chest. 

 

“You go ahead and sleep, Betts,” he whispered. “I’ll be right here.” 

 

“Thanks, Juggie,” she replied sleepily, slowly drifting into a gentle slumber. 

 

**\---**

 

Betty stayed asleep in Jughead’s hold for so long that Veronica came peeking through the cracked door at one point. She saw Jughead first, laying down, and then she saw Betty wrapped in his arm. Jughead had noticed her presence and waved, acknowledging her. He held a finger to his lips, signaling her not to wake up Betty. Veronica nodded and left. 

 

Hot Dog returned sometime later, jumping back onto the bed and settling himself at Jughead and Betty’s entwined feet. Understanding his importance in being a human pillow, Jughead carefully picked up  _ Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea _ and was reading when the blonde began to stir. Jughead put his book to the side, brushing blonde hairs out of Betty’s face. When she opened her eyes, she giggled lightly and brought her hand up near his face, framing his cheek with two fingers and resting her thumb on his chin. 

 

Jughead leaned over her, rolling them both over so that she was on her back and he was on his side. Meadow green and crystal blue clashed as Jughead smiled back. 

 

“Sleep well?” he asked. 

 

“Yeah, thanks to you,” she replied. There was a pause between them and the air turned a little more serious. 

 

“I missed you, Betts,” he whispered. “I missed your smile, your giggle, your usually bubbly personality...” She giggled again. “That laugh is infectious, I hope you know that.” 

 

“I know now,” she teased, smiling contently at him. “I missed you too, Juggie.” 

 

“I don’t ever want to miss you again,” Jughead said. “I don’t want to miss another smile, or giggle, or literary reference. I don’t want to miss the chance to hold you until you fall asleep, or to protect you from harm, and I  _ definitely _ don’t want to let you cry alone--” 

 

“Jughead, what are you saying?” she asked delicately. 

 

“I know the timing is  _ shit _ because you just told me your story a few hours ago but--” He stopped suddenly and without much reason. He didn’t know why he stopped, but he did. 

 

“But what?” she asked, smiling genuinely at him, holding her bottom lip between her teeth. 

 

“Betty Cooper, will you go out with me?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, Jughead really wants to rush my slowburn, doesn't he? 
> 
> JK this was planned. 
> 
> But is it too soon for Betty?


	6. trigger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trigger: (especially of something read, seen, or heard) distress (someone), typically as a result of arousing feelings or memories associated with a particular traumatic experience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait, but I wanted to make sure everything felt right in this chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy all 23 pages!

It wasn’t like she hadn’t noticed the way he smiled at her. She’d noticed how handsome he was once she was able to trust him, once she was able to draw the line between him and Malachi. She’d noticed his cool blue eyes on the day they met and the calming effect they had on her. His lopsided grin when she cracked a joke or when he made her smile was endearing. She knew his intentions were good. 

 

She had always known his intentions were good. She knew how protective he was of her and how he would simply sit and listen to her talk if she wanted that. He was a great audience. He was a literary and motion picture fan, just like herself. He was a good friend and pillow,  _ that _ she knew well. 

 

Beyond that, she knew that she didn’t want to lose him again, either. She agreed with his previous statements. The last month had been hard. The pain had been unimaginable. And maybe the timing seemed shit.  _ Everything in her life leading up to where she was had been shit.  _

 

But she wasn’t expecting  _ that. _

 

“What?” She asked, totally caught off-guard. 

 

“I know the timing is terrible, like I said, but I’d be willing to give this a chance, Betty—“ 

 

“Wait—“

 

“If you’re not ready, I’ll wait, but I don’t want to push—“

 

“Jug.”

 

“I can’t lose you again, Betts. I can’t—“

 

_ “Jughead!” _ She exclaimed, placing the palm of her hand against his chest. He stopped and looked into her eyes. “Slow down. It’s okay.” 

 

“If you need more time to think about it, I don’t want to rush you into anything, but I definitely don’t want to  _ lose _ you again.” 

 

“I’m not intending on pushing you away, Jug,” she replied. “I can’t do that again, either.” 

 

There was a pause and Betty realized how comfortable she really was, cradled in Jughead’s arms. She noticed the way a few of his dark chocolate curls fell off of his head as he leaned over her in a protective way. She knew she was safe with him, she’d known it for two months now. 

 

“You just... you caught me by surprise was all, Jughead,” she whispered finally. 

 

“I never should have—“

 

“Stop. Stop.” 

 

He did, looking into her meadow green eyes. 

 

“You thought that that was a denial, didn’t you?” She asked. 

 

“Well... yes, but—“ 

 

“I never said no, Jughead.” She paused and pushed that dark chocolate curl back onto his head with the backs of her fingers. “And before you start  _ rambling _ again... I want to try this too.” 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Yes,” she replied. “I think we should see how this goes.” 

 

“Are you sure?” He asked. “This isn’t coming on too fast?” 

 

“I mean... it’s a little fast... but I trust you, and you know how long it took for me to get  _ there.” _ Jughead smiled when she said that. “I’m up for it if you are.”

 

“We’ll do one date, and if you hate it, we can go back to just being friends,” he suggested. 

 

“And if I love it?” She asked. He plastered a goofy grin on his face. 

 

“Then we’ll continue at your pace. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

 

“That sounds good to me, Jughead,” she said, smiling. 

 

“How about... I take you out to Pop’s tonight... then we could maybe have a few drinks together. What do you think about that?” 

 

“I’d love to,” she replied. “That sounds really nice.”

 

“Well I’m happy.” He suddenly let himself collapse onto Betty, laying himself on top of her. She laughed. 

 

“Jug!” She managed to say through her laughing. He wrapped his arms around her torso and placed his head on her shoulder.

 

“You make a good pillow,” he mocked as her laughter became louder. Betty’s arms wrapped around the back of his neck, twirling some of his dark hair in her fingers. 

 

“We should probably get up...” she began. 

 

“No thanks,” he replied, grinning. 

 

“We could go watch  _ Rear Window  _ or something,” she teased. He moved his head so that his chin was resting on her shoulder, looking up at her. 

 

“Ooh... Tempting.” He wiggled his eyebrows, making her laugh again. “Alright, let’s do it.” 

 

They ended up on the couch directly across from the TV, Betty’s feet innocently pulled up onto the seat and pressing into the side of Jughead’s thigh. Hot Dog sat on the floor in front of the blonde, looking up periodically to make sure everything was still okay. After Jughead had made them a delicious breakfast of popcorn to go with their dose of  _ Rear Window  _ (it was much more appropriate, he’d argued), a blanket had ended up covering their legs from the waist down. 

 

The viewing itself was pretty quiet besides the occasional comment or joke. Nearing two-thirds of the way through the film, Betty shifted her position so she was sitting next to Jughead. He had his arm laying across the back of the couch already, but the blonde had filled the gap next to him. Jughead figured that she was still exhausted after the events of the previous night and month. She had eventually leaned her head on his shoulder as she yawned. 

 

“Comfortable?” he’d asked. 

 

“Hmm,” she replied affirmatively, nodding her head. Jughead could tell that she would fall asleep before the movie was over. He, however, hadn’t been able to focus on the film much because he’d been thinking of something else. 

 

Betty was damaged, that much was obvious. She had traumas, some that had nearly paralyzed her with fear. He hadn’t forgotten how she held onto him during the thunderstorm. She had been terrified of the loud noises. He hadn’t asked how or why she had woken up the previous night, but he assumed it was because of the thunderstorm. It could have been a nightmare, but he had no idea what was going on in her head. 

 

Jughead looked over at her, seeing her blonde head resting on his shoulder contently. She was so strong that it almost scared him. He was honored that she trusted him with her past, that  _ she trusted him with her safety. _

 

Most of all, he could tell that she needed help. There was no problem with seeing a therapist if you needed one. He’d seen a school counselor back in Seaside when he was going through a rough patch with his parents, mostly because the principal had suggested it. The affair had been quietly done, but it helped to just talk about it. 

 

He believed that seeing a therapist would help her. He thought it would help her to talk about what she was experiencing, even if it could make her uncomfortable to do so. Abusive relationships and abusive parents weren’t traumas that went away overnight, especially when Betty had been abused as heavily as she was. Being abused within an inch of your life when you’re in your early twenties, then abandoning the people that hurt you for twenty something years, and later finding yourself in  _ another _ life-threatening relationship was nothing light. There was nothing featherweight about her experiences, about her life. Therapy would only help her. 

 

“Betty?” He asked. 

 

“What’s up, Jug?” She asked, slightly tired. Betty sat upright to look at him. 

 

“I was just thinking...” he began. “Have you ever... considered seeing a therapist?” 

 

“I have... yeah,” she admitted. “But I haven’t gone to see one. I... I’m not ready to share that with other people.” 

 

“I know you aren’t... but if you could talk to a professional about your nightmares, I think it would help you,” he replied. “Even if you don’t tell them everything.” 

 

“I don’t know, Jug...” she replied. “And why are you asking about this all of a sudden?” 

 

“I just think it could help you, is all,” he replied. “I was asked to talk to a school counselor when my dad was having problems with alcohol and he and my mom had split up. It helped me, and I only want to help you...” 

 

“That’s sweet, Jug... but it’s just like I told Toni and Veronica and Cheryl nearly two months ago: I’m not ready for that step.” 

 

“Will you consider it at least?” Jughead asked. “I just... I don’t want you to be in pain, and pain like yours doesn’t disappear easily...” 

 

Betty smiled, covering a yawn with her hand. She started to lean into his side again as she answered. 

 

“I’ll think about it, Juggie,” she replied sleepily, lacing an arm across his abdomen. “I will, I promise.” 

 

Jughead’s arm fell off the back of the couch, placing his hand on Betty’s shoulder. He rested his head against her. 

 

They didn’t see the end of  _ Rear Window. _

 

**\---**

 

They probably wouldn’t have woken up if Jughead hadn’t smelled Cheryl making lunch behind them. None of the women in the house were eager to disturb either of them because they knew that Jughead and Betty had finally come back to each other after a month. Disrupting the sort of peace that they were displaying on the couch? That was like a sin. 

 

Instead, they cooked lunch as quietly as possible, knowing that the smell of food would wake the bodyguard. He came back to himself slowly, moving only enough to slightly startle Betty. 

 

“Huh?” She asked drowsily, rubbing her eye. 

 

“Food,” he replied simply. 

 

“Lunch?” she asked. “Already? What--” Betty turned around to see Toni and Cheryl by the stove, quietly making pasta. 

 

“Well good morning to you, too, Danny Zuko and Sandy Olsson,” Veronica said, emerging from the hallway that led to her room. She sat on one of the couches adjacent to the one that Jughead and Betty were sitting on. The blonde righted herself, pushing lightly against Jughead’s chest to do so. “You gave us quite a scare this morning, B, when you weren’t in your bed and Hot Dog was nowhere to be found.” 

 

“Sorry, V,” she replied. 

 

“Don’t apologize. It turned out to be okay, after all. Better than okay.” Veronica looked between the two of them, acknowledging that they had obviously made up. “Also, we didn’t want to disturb you both, and Toni knew that if we started making lunch it would wake Jughead, then wake you.” 

 

“So you’ve found my weakness,” Jughead quipped. 

 

“It was really a guess, but yes,” Veronica replied. 

 

“Well done, Nancy Drew.” 

 

“Don’t patronize me, Jones,” she replied. “Anyways, Betty, Toni needs you to go to the store with her once we’re done eating.” The blonde grumbled, but sighed and gave up. 

 

“Okay, fine,” she said finally. 

 

“You got a problem, Coop?” Toni asked jokingly. 

 

“I still love you, T!” she replied, tilting her head over the back of the couch to look at the pink-haired woman. Toni smiled and reciprocated the sentiment. 

 

“I guess I should go get dressed, then,” Jughead proposed, beginning to rise from the couch when Veronica stopped him. 

 

“Toni is capable of handling Betty by herself,” she said. “You’re staying here.” 

 

“It’s my job to go with her,” he argued. 

 

“I want to spend time with Cooper, genius,” Toni quipped.  _ “Alone,” _ she added. 

 

“T carries a switchblade at all times,” Veronica assured him. 

 

“Damn straight,” Toni interjected. 

 

“Relax, Jug,” Betty said, touching his bicep. “I’ll be fine.” The bodyguard nodded and allowed himself to sit back on the couch once more. Before Jughead could put his arm on the back of the couch again, Cheryl called out from the kitchen. 

 

“If you want this all to still be hot when you eat it, you better haul ass over here,” the ginger retorted. Betty and Veronica laughed as they all walked into the kitchen to fix their plates. 

 

**\---**

 

Jughead had settled himself back on the couch once he was done with lunch, a work of Hemingway’s in his hand. He looked up to wave when Betty went out the door with Toni and Hot Dog. The elevator doors slid closed behind them, and the bodyguard went back to his book. 

 

Nearly three seconds later, two women were on either side of him. The ginger plucked the book from his fingers and set it on the coffee table in front of them. 

 

“Jones,” Veronica said from his other side. 

 

“How may I help you Ms. Lodge? Ms. Blossom?” Jughead asked sarcastically. 

 

“Something happened between you and Betty, literally overnight,” Cheryl said. “We want to know what it was.” 

 

“Just ask Betty, I’m sure she’d tell you,” Jughead retorted, reaching for his book. Veronica pushed him back on the couch. 

 

“When you’ve reunited after a thunderstorm?” Veronica asked. “No, she wouldn’t tell us. She probably doesn’t remember a lot. Panic attacks will do that to her.” 

 

“S-She won’t remember last night?” Jughead asked, starting to panic. He wanted her to remember the moments they shared, even in the middle of the storm. 

 

“She could, but you’re a more reliable source because your head was probably clearer,” Cheryl said. “So spill, Danny Darko.” 

 

Jughead sighed and ran his fingers through his dark hair. 

 

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” he asked. 

 

“Hell no,” Veronica and Cheryl replied together. Jughead sighed again. 

 

“I was woken up by pounding on my door, and then I heard the thunder, too. I didn’t know what was going on, but I opened my door to see Betty standing away from my door, trembling wildly and holding onto her arms. Hot Dog was clawing at her leg, but she wasn’t even looking at him. I called her name, she looked up immediately and jumped back. She must have thought that I was Malachi for a minute, but she quickly adjusted. 

 

“Betty ran towards me and wrapped her arms around me, muttering how she was sorry. I assured her as best as I could, but she was just crying and shaking in my shoulder, apologizing relentlessly. Betty tensed every time thunder or lightning struck. Eventually, the storm had died down enough so that I could get her to sleep, so I slept next to her. 

 

“I woke up this morning, surprised to see her still laying next to me, and she woke up a little after. We put that argument from a month ago behind us, and then...” Jughead remembered what happened next. He just wanted to tread carefully. 

 

“Then what?” Cheryl asked. 

 

“She told me her story,” he said softly, looking between the women. They were surprised, to say the least, but they also didn’t know what to say. 

 

“Wow,” Veronica interjected after about a minute of silence. Jughead nodded. 

 

“That’s great for you two,” Cheryl added. “She included the part--” 

 

“That she didn’t include in her memoir?” Jughead interrupted. Cheryl nodded. “Yeah. That too... She broke down on my shoulder when she recounted what happened in February from her perspective.” 

 

“That’s... that’s...  _ God, _ that’s a big step,” Veronica added. 

 

“I made her go back to sleep after she was done,” Jughead said. “She admitted that the sleep she got with me was the best sleep she had in a month. She slept a few more hours while I read next to her. When she woke up again, I--” Jughead cut himself off. He didn’t know if Betty would want Cheryl and Veronica to know. 

 

“What?” they asked at the same time. 

 

“I’m not sure if Betty wants me to tell you the last part.” 

 

“We’re bound to hear it, sooner or later,” Veronica said. 

 

“We asked Toni to get  _ all _ of the details from Betty,” Cheryl added. “Now it’s your turn.” 

 

“Ugh...” he grumbled, throwing his head back in frustration. “Fine. I may or may not have asked Betty out tonight and she may or may not have said yes--” 

 

Jughead had barely finished before Cheryl and Veronica squealed at the same time. 

 

“No, no, don’t do that,” Jughead stopped them. “I don’t want her to be uncomfortable with this. We’re simply trying things out for now. I don’t want Betty to be overwhelmed if this is happening too fast.” 

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Veronica apologized quickly. “But it was only a matter of time...” 

 

“What?” Jughead asked. 

 

“We could all see it. Anyways...” Veronica began. “We’ll pretend it doesn’t exist. It’s been a while since we’ve had a girls night, even if it’s without Betty. What do you think, Cher?” 

 

“We can all stay in my room tonight,” the ginger replied. “For  _ the whole night...” _ she and Veronica giggled. 

 

“Woah, wait, I’m not that kind of person,” Jughead added quickly, understanding the implied assumption. “Absolutely not.” 

 

“Well, just in case--” 

 

“There will be no  _ just in case,”  _ he said. “And don’t you get any ideas about it, either.” 

 

“Fine, fine,” Veronica surrendered. “We will still be staying in Cheryl’s room to give you privacy, even if it’s not like that.” 

 

“Thank you,” Jughead said. “Now that you know what you need, can I have my Hemingway back?” 

 

“One more question,” Cheryl interjected. “Do you have a crush on her?” 

 

“Okay, nope. We’re not going there.” He leaned forward to grab at his book. “That’s too personal and it’s not your business.” He picked up the novel and sat back again. “Now if you wouldn’t mind, let  _ Danny Darko _ here read his Hemingway.” 

 

Veronica and Cheryl rolled their eyes at the same time, getting off the couch, and walking back to their rooms. 

 

**\---**

 

“So... you and Jughead?” Toni asked as Betty picked up a shopping bag, Hot Dog’s leash in her other hand. The blonde whipped around. 

 

“Excuse me?” she replied. 

 

“Did you finally resolve things with him? Or else, what was the cuddling about this morning as the  _ Rear Window _ credits rolled?” 

 

_ Oh, _ Betty thought as they left the store, heading towards where the private driver was parked. 

 

“Uh... The storm last night caused a nightmare last night...” Betty scratched the back of her neck. 

 

“Your parents or--” 

 

“Both,” Betty replied. “Nearly at the same time.” 

 

“Oh, B.” 

 

“It’s okay. It’s okay now,” she sighed. “Hot Dog woke me up and the thunder and lightning caused a panic attack, so it’s all a bit hazy, but I remember getting up and not being able to stop crying, or to even breathe. The thunder made me jump every time it boomed, and I barely remember making big leaps across the penthouse. I somehow ended up at Jughead’s door with Hot Dog on my tail. I hit Jughead’s door a few times and he came out. I thought he was Malachi at first, until a flash of lightning made me realize it was Jughead.” 

 

“I knew I should have stayed in the living room to monitor your door,” Toni chastised. 

 

“It turned out okay, though, Toni,” Betty continued. “Jughead pulled me into his room and held onto me until the storm died down, then he ended up getting me to go to sleep with him next to me.” 

 

“Betty, that’s great that you got some good sleep. It’s about damn time, too,” Toni joked. Betty laughed. 

 

“When we woke up this morning, we talked, and I was able to get over the conversation that had driven us away from each other... and after, I told him everything.” 

 

“Elizabeth Cooper,” Toni said, grabbing the blonde’s hands and spinning the author to face her. “I am  _ so proud _ of how far you’ve come with Jughead. It’s remarkable, really, B.” 

 

“I wasn’t even done, T,” she replied, beaming. 

 

“Girl! Spill!” 

 

“Well I went back to sleep because he suggested it, and it was good sleep which had been hard to come by. How could I give up that opportunity? Anyways, I woke up again and... he asked me out.” 

 

“Oh my God,” Toni gasped. “No he didn’t!” 

 

“He did, Toni. We’re going out tonight, but don’t freak--” 

 

“Betty!” she squealed. 

 

“--out...” she sighed, facepalming. “We’re trying this out once to see if it’s not too fast and if it feels right.” 

 

“That’s amazing,” Toni gasped, smiling. “Are you sure that you’re ready to step back into the dating scene, though?” 

 

“With Jughead?” Betty asked. “Yeah. Absolutely. I know I can trust him.” 

 

“He was assigned to protect your life, after all,” Toni added. “There are worse people you could go on a date with.” 

 

_ “Tell me about it,”  _ Betty said, both laughing as they handed off the shopping bags to the driver and getting in the back of the car. 

 

**\---**

 

Veronica and Cheryl didn’t truly leave Jughead alone after their conversation. They let him have his time with the novel in his hand, but after the first time he set down the book, the stylist and literary agent pulled him into his room. They overwhelmed him by pressuring him into getting Veronica to call and arrange a chauffeur so that height Jughead or Betty had to worry about driving. They pulled him towards his closet, and after seeing his security suits were too formal, Cheryl pulled out a dark blue T-shirt (which was rare because most of his shirts had a large S on the front) and the nicest black jeans that he owned. She decided, to his relief, that his slightly beat up converse would be okay as well. Before Jughead could thank the women, Veronica was pushing him towards the shower. 

 

Jughead was simple. He didn’t need a  _ chauffeur _ or a fancy restaurant to have a good time with someone. He knew Betty didn’t need that either, though he knew she would appreciate it very much. He also understood that Veronica and Cheryl were enthusiastic about Betty being able to stretch herself to go on a date after everything that had happened to her. The women wanted it to be good for Betty, therefore, they wanted it to be good for Jughead too. That’s why he hadn’t protested too much (except when Cheryl had tried and was successful in getting him to not wear suspenders on the date). 

 

When he hopped out of the shower, he didn’t see Veronica or Cheryl, assuming that they had gone out of his room to greet Betty and to do nearly the same as they had done with him. Once he had his jeans and T-shirt on, there was a soft knock on his bedroom door. He opened it curiously. 

 

“Toni?” He asked. 

 

“Thank you, Jughead,” the petite, pink-haired woman greeted immediately. 

 

“For what, may I ask?” 

 

“For staying. We told you it would be hard and you stayed.  _ Thank you,” _ she added. 

 

“You’re welcome, Toni,” he replied. 

 

“And also for making her happy. I’ve never seen her smile so wide in such a long time. Thank you.” 

 

Jughead nodded this time, acknowledging her thanks. She told him that she would go to let him finish, then he closed the door behind him. 

 

_ He made her happy. _

 

Jughead was still grasping the concept. The thought that he could make someone as sensational as Betty  _ happy _ made him smile. If there was anyone in the world he wanted to make laugh, it was Betty. If there was anyone in the world he would want to make smile, it was Betty. If there was anyone in the world he wanted to watch movies with, read books with, and protect from the dangers the world posed her, it was Betty Cooper. There was no one else, Jughead thought, that he would rather sleep in a bed with, even as friends. 

 

Jughead didn’t think he’d ever had such a good friendship with anyone. Even Archie and Reggie when they were growing up hadn’t seemed to understand his interests  _ nearly as well _ as Betty did. It was apparent that Veronica and Cheryl hadn’t quite tapped into her favorite movies, though he wasn’t sure if Toni had or not (it sure seemed like the pink-haired woman could keep up with  _ Rear Window,  _ at the least). Having someone around that would get his literary references seemed like something brand new, something that should be coveted and protected for however long it lasted. So, to say that Jughead was excited to see how this date would go was an understatement. 

 

Combing his dark hair to the side in an attempt to keep it neat, though he knew that it would turn back into its fluffy, messy, wavy state once his hair was dry. As he ran the comb through his hair, Jughead remembered the gentle way that Betty had pushed a curl behind his ear as she considered going out with him. He smiled at the thought, glancing at his feet bashfully. 

 

It was then that he realized...  _ she made him happy, too. _

 

**\---**

 

“Cheryl, seriously, not too heavy,” Betty told the stylist. 

 

“If  _ you _ would learn to do it yourself—“

 

“If  _ you _ would do what I paid you to do—“

 

“Touché,” Cheryl replied and both of them laughed. “It’s just a little dark in here, Bettykins, I haven’t even made it that dramatic.” 

 

“Sorry,” she replied. “I’m just...” 

 

“Nervous?” Veronica interjected from the blonde’s closet. Betty sighed through a laugh as Hot Dog slipped his head under her hand. 

 

“You could say that,” she replied. 

 

“He’s still going to be the same Jughead and you’re gonna be the same Betty that you always are,” Cheryl muttered as she handed Betty the tube of pale pink lipstick. The blonde applied it as the ginger continued. “Just be yourself.” 

 

“Thanks, Cher,” Betty replied, smiling up at her stylist and handing her the tube of lipstick back. 

 

“No problem,” she said, returning the smile. Cheryl turned towards Veronica in the closet. “Did you find anything useful, Ronnie?” 

 

“Maybe a few items,” she replied. Betty spun around, seeing the articles of clothing laying on her bed. She got up from her vanity and picked up a pastel blue sleeveless and collared button-up shirt, as well as a pink skirt with a few brass buttons on one side. 

 

“What do you think, stylist-in-residence?” Betty asked, holding up the selected items for Cheryl to see. 

 

“You’re going to give Danny Zuko a heart attack, Sandy,” the ginger replied. “Put that shit  _ on, _ B!” 

 

The blonde giggled as she went to change in her bathroom, quickly pulling off the dressing robe Veronica had insisted on her borrowing and throwing on the skirt and top, tucking the tail of the blue shirt into the skirt. She stepped out of the bathroom when she was done, earning three gasps in return. 

 

_ “Damn, _ Betty,” she heard Toni say as she turned to face all of them. Cheryl must have let the publicist in while she was changing. 

 

“Jughead is going to do a flip, girl,” Veronica added. 

 

“Not yet he won’t,” Cheryl stepped in. “I haven’t even done her hair yet. Veronica, find the ballet flats that match the skirt. I  _ know _ they’re in there. Betty, sit.” 

 

The blonde did as she was told, allowing herself to be directed back in front of the vanity as Toni took advantage of the queen-sized bed behind them. Cheryl quickly dried Betty’s hair and used the curling iron to create loose blonde curls. After a quick spritz of hairspray, Cheryl found herself saying that the blonde was ready, sans ballet flats. Veronica produced them and handed the shoes to Betty. The blonde slipped them on her feet quickly, giving a quick twirl, then facing her friends again. 

 

“So?” she asked. 

 

“You look great, Bettykins,” Cheryl replied. 

 

“I’ll get Jughead’s funeral planning started,” Toni interjected. 

 

“And I’ll talk to my dad about a new bodyguard because of Jughead’s death--” 

 

_ “Guys,” _ she stopped them. 

 

“We’re happy for you,” Veronica said. “We’re just happy for you, B.” 

 

The blonde smiled with a giggle and stepped forward to meet her oldest friend in a tight hug. She did the same with Cheryl and Toni before heading for the door with her purse and Hot Dog. 

 

“You three,” she said, pointing to all of them. “None of you are allowed out of whatever bedroom you sleep in tonight from 10PM until 6AM. Got it?” She asked strictly. 

 

Toni gave a small salute. 

 

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “Yes, Poirot,” she sighed mockingly. 

 

Veronica smiled and gave a thumbs up. “Get it, girl!” 

 

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Betty said quickly, letting herself and Hot Dog out of her bedroom. She faced her door as she shut it, biting her lip mischievously. When she turned around again, she saw Jughead standing there, evidently waiting for her. 

 

He looked good in that t-shirt and jeans, even though he wore that all the time when they were home. He still looked handsome with his hair somewhat neatly swept to one side. The dark red hoodie that was slung around his waist added a pop of color to his outfit. He smiled when he saw her and she reciprocated it. 

 

“Hey,” she nearly whispered. 

 

“Hey,” he replied, looking her up and down once, then focusing his eyes on hers. “Uh... you ready to go?” 

 

“Yeah. Definitely,” she said. Jughead motioned to the elevator and they both headed towards the doors. Jughead pressed the button and the doors opened almost immediately. He motioned for Betty to step in first, holding the doors open with his arm. 

 

“Thanks,” she said, stepping inside as she admired his toned forearm holding the doors open. He quickly stepped in after her once she pressed the button for the lobby. The doors slid closed and Jughead faced her immediately. 

 

“You look great,” he said. Betty turned towards him. “You look...  _ God, _ you look nice.” 

 

“Thanks, Jug,” she replied. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” They both flushed at the same time as Betty moved closer to him and slipped her hand under his arm, holding onto him. Jughead smiled and pulled his hand up a bit so that her fingers were touching the inside of his elbow. 

 

The awkward silence was inevitable, but their actions spoke volumes for both of them as they stepped out into the Pembrooke’s lobby. They immediately saw Reggie and Dilton behind the desk, sitting in the chairs provided for them. Betty didn’t let go of Hot Dog’s leash in one hand nor Jughead’s arm in her other when Reggie waved to them, telling Jughead that Archie was on his night off and that Edgar Evernever, the skilled chauffeur, would be taking them in one of Mr. Lodge’s cars. 

 

“Thanks, Reg. Hey, Doiley.” 

 

“‘Sup, Jug,” the other young man replied. 

 

“We’ll be back later.” 

 

“Have a good night,” Reggie told them as Jughead held open the Pembrooke’s door for the blonde and sheepdog. When they stepped outside, the driver in question, Edgar, was waiting for them, holding the backseat door open for them both. 

 

“Where to, Mr. Jones? Ms. Cooper?” he asked them. 

 

“Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe, if you would, Edgar,” Jughead replied as Betty slid to the other side of the car. 

 

“Will do, Mr. Jones,” Evernever replied as he closed the door behind him. Jughead looked over at Betty as they began to drive. Hot Dog was sitting on the floor and the blonde was looking up at him with a smile gracing her lips. 

 

“Is there something on my face?” Jughead joked, brushing his cheek with his hand. 

 

“No, silly,” Betty replied in a laugh. “You just look really handsome tonight, is all.” 

 

“Glad  _ someone _ noticed,” Jughead joked, mockingly slicking back a side of his hair. Betty giggled madly as the driver pulled up to Pop’s. He stopped the car and opened the door for Jughead to get out first. He held a hand out for Betty and she took it, stepping out of the car with Hot Dog behind her. Edgar closed the door of the car as Betty and Jughead stepped onto the sidewalk. 

 

Betty noticed as they walked up the steps and into the diner that Jughead hadn’t let go of her hand. She smiled almost smugly as Jughead opened the door for Betty and Hot Dog. She led them inside and towards a booth near the back as Jughead waved to Pop Tate behind the counter. He caught up to the blonde quickly as she let go of his hand to slide in one side of the booth. Jughead took the other side and Hot Dog positioned himself at Betty’s feet. They smiled at each other as they picked up the menus on the table. 

 

“What are you smiling about?” Jughead asked without looking up. 

 

“What are  _ you _ smiling about?” She replied. 

 

“I’m with  _ you.”  _ Betty’s face flushed. “Are you gonna answer  _ my  _ question?” 

 

“You held my hand...” she mumbled nervously. 

 

“Did you like that?” 

 

“Yeah... it was nice.” 

 

At that, Jughead reached across the table and forced her fingers to uncurl, placing his hand in hers. Betty smiled again as Jughead went back to the menu. Both of them looked up when the waitress approached the table. 

 

“Hello, my name is Ginger. I’ll be your server today. Can I start you with something to drink?” She asked, flipping open her order pad. 

 

“Just a water for me,” Betty said. 

 

“Coke,” Jughead replied simply. 

 

“Alright. Are you ready to order or do you need a minute or two?” 

 

“I’m ready. Jug?” 

 

“Yeah. I’d like a double cheeseburger, hold the pickles and onion. A double order of fries and a chocolate milkshake.” 

 

“And you, Miss?” 

 

“A hamburger, no tomato or onion, a vanilla milkshake, and fries, please.” 

 

“I’ll get that order put in for you,” Ginger said with a smile, taking their menus and walking away. 

 

Betty looked down and saw that they were still holding hands. Jughead’s thumb was making slow strokes across the back of her hand

 

“Oh,” she gasped, pulling her hand away. “Sorry, I—“

 

“What are you apologizing for?” Jughead asked kindly. “You don’t ever need to apologize to me, Betts.” 

 

“I just didn’t realize we were still holding hands...” she muttered. 

 

“I didn’t mind,” he replied. “Did you?” 

 

“No,” she said truthfully. “I just... I don’t know... I feel like you know more about me than I know about you.” She was halfway looking for a way to change the topic. 

 

“I’m an open book, Betts,” he replied. “Shoot your questions.” 

 

Before Betty could ask her first question, Ginger came back with their waters, then quickly left again. 

 

“I don’t know where to start...” 

 

“Then I can,” he said. “I grew up in Seaside with Archie and Reggie. It’s not too far from Riverdale. We’re about thirty minutes away. They have been my two oldest friends since kindergarten. They both ended up in football and wrestling and sports like that, where I was usually the loner kid, but Archie and Reggie never stopped hanging out or associating with me. They were teased by some of their teammates for being friends with me but they both rolled their eyes at the comments and moved on. 

 

“My parents weren’t always the most stable. There was tension between them all the way through my middle school years because of my father’s alcoholism. He had a job with Archie’s dad’s construction company, but he lost it, then continued to get and lose more jobs. It all built up until my mom got sick of it, took my sister, Jellybean, and went to Toledo.” 

 

“Jug... I’m so sorry,” Betty said, grabbing his hand and giving a gentle squeeze. Jughead nodded to accept her sympathy, then continued. 

 

“The next day, my dad threw out all of his beer and liquor, grabbed the newspaper from my hands, and started looking for jobs. He eventually sobered up and was working two to three part time jobs at a time. He really came around for me. I was working with our school newspaper at the time and my dad was able to buy me a laptop so I could write easier.” 

 

“I didn’t know you wrote, Jughead,” Betty said. 

 

“I wanted to go to Riverdale University to be in their journalism program, but I didn’t have enough money. Anyways, my dad was doing well on his own and with me, so my mom came back home with my sister. When it came time for me to decide what I would do after high school, my parents simply didn’t have the money to send me to Riverdale University. Archie and Reggie were in the same situation. Archie’s dad wasn’t doing so well with his construction business, and Reggie’s dad had a car dealership that wasn’t doing great, so we were all at a loss. 

 

“That was until there was a career fair at Seaside High. Archie, Reggie, and I were wandering along the tables when we saw Hiram Lodge promoting his security academy. He told us all about how he trained teenagers right out of high school to be in security. He said that he paid well and that his security academy was free to attend, so we all went together soon after we graduated. After two years at Mr. Lodge’s security academy, we started working for him at the Pembrooke.” 

 

“When we moved in, I didn’t see you in the lobby. So... where were you working?” 

 

“Believe it or not, Archie, Reggie, and I were the top three of our class in that order. Archie and Reggie has first choice in where they wanted to be put in the Pembrooke, and they chose the front desk. I got stuck in the parking deck booth, nearly under the Pembrooke,” Jughead said. “I was actually reading your book when Dilton pulled your car in for the first time, in fact. And I only got out of that booth because you needed a bodyguard. So thank you for getting me out of that security booth.” 

 

“You’re welcome, I guess,” Betty laughed, taking a sip of her ice water. “I don’t know how else to respond to that.” Jughead chucked too. 

 

Before they knew it, twenty minutes had passed and their food was put before them. Jughead dug in immediately as Betty laughed. 

 

“I’m always hungry, Betty, you should know that about me.” 

 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied, putting ketchup on her plate for the fries. 

 

They ate, laughed, and spoke about various different topics, and the main debate was about whether or not Albus Dumbledore from the  _ Harry Potter _ series was a good or bad person for what he did to Harry. 

 

“He literally kept Harry safe so that he would die again!” Betty argued. “That’s a terrible thing to do! He kept so many secrets about it too!” 

 

“Okay, but he did it to save the whole world. And Dumbledore knew that Harry wouldn’t be killed if Voldemort tried to do the death,” Jughead replied, shoving a fry in his mouth. 

 

_ “Do the death?”  _ Betty asked. 

 

“You know...” Jughead said, waving his hand around as if he had a wand. Betty giggled, bringing her napkin to cover her mouth. 

 

“Anyways, I don’t endorse naming your  _ kid _ after Dumbledore, but he had good intentions, even if Harry had to die so that the horcrux in him would die,” Jughead concluded, taking the last gulp of his milkshake. He swallowed as Betty nodded. “Alright, so here’s the real question. Was Snape a good person?” 

 

“Absolutely not!” 

 

“Then we’re on the same page then. That’s good.” Betty laughed again. 

 

She didn’t think she would be able to stop smiling after tonight. They hadn’t even gone to the bar yet, and she was already intoxicated with happiness. She didn’t need any alcohol to loosen her up with Jughead, he did that himself with his quirky humor, kind personality, and genuine grin. 

 

When the waitress brought the check, both Betty and Jughead were adamant on paying the bill. They decided that they would pay for each other, then they got up and left after saying goodbye to Pop. 

 

On their way out the door, Jughead took Betty’s free hand to lead her and Hot Dog out, interlocking his fingers with the blonde. He turned back quickly to look at her and flashed a smile. She did the same, and Jughead faced forward again, cheeks flushing slightly as his eyes attached to the ground. 

 

He and Betty walked next to each other, arms and shoulders brushing as they went to find Edgar and their car. When the chauffeur stepped out of the car, they made a beeline for it and Edgar opened the car door to let Betty and Hot Dog in first. 

 

“Where to, Mr. Jones?” 

 

“The Whyte Wyrm, Edgar.” 

 

“You got it,” he replied, letting Jughead get in and closing the door behind him. Betty looked at him and smiled. 

 

“How did you know?” Betty asked. 

 

“How did I know what?” 

 

“That’s where Cheryl, Toni, Veronica, and I usually go to get drinks on the rare occasion that we leave the house,” she replied. Jughead chuckled lightly before answering. 

 

“A few guys that I knew from Mr. Lodge’s security academy work there,” he replied. 

 

“In security?” 

 

“Two check IDs at the door and the other is a bouncer,” he replied. “So on the rare occasion I drink,” Jughead began, echoing her words, “I go to the Wyrm.” 

 

“Well, you have good taste,” Betty replied. Jughead smiled in response. The rest of the short ride was in a comfortable silence until the car door opened again. Jughead helped Betty out and led her and Hot Dog to the sidewalk as Edgar pulled the car away to park somewhere. 

 

“Call me if you can’t find me, Jughead,” he’d told him before stepping in and driving away. 

 

He wasn’t worried about that at the moment. He couldn’t find himself being worried about much of anything because of the blonde currently on his arm. Their IDs were checked by Sweet Pea and Joaquin DeSantos, who Jughead greeted cheerily. Once they were inside, he waved down Fangs Fogarty, giving him a fist bump before introducing him to Betty. 

 

They ordered their drinks and sat at the bar to wait for them to come back. Hot Dog took a seat at Betty’s feet, but stayed alert with all of the moving bodies in the bar. It was somewhat crowded, and the bass of the music was pumping, but it wasn’t too loud for Betty’s tastes. Jughead had made sure of that the moment they sat down. 

 

Fangs delivered their drinks, a Jack Daniels and coke for Betty and a gin and tonic for Jughead. After that, conversation flowed naturally between the two. Once they’d gotten a bit of alcohol in their system, it was easier to talk to each other. Topics they discussed ranged from a debate on which Hogwarts houses they would sort themselves and each other into. 

 

“Betty, I’m telling you;  _ you’re a Gryffindor.” _

 

“Jughead, I’m a Ravenclaw.” 

 

“If you’re a Ravenclaw, I’m a Slytherin. And I am definitely  _ not  _ a Slytherin.” 

 

“You’re my sweet little Hufflepuff,” Betty cooed mockingly after finishing her second Jack and coke. 

 

“No I’m not,” Jughead retorted. “I’m a Ravenclaw.” 

 

“Says the one that has saved my life twice,” Betty replied. “You’re actually a Gryffindor.” 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Of course.” 

 

“Then you’re a Gryffindor, too. You’re brave, Betty.” 

 

Jughead’s writing in high school came up too. 

 

“I’d rather be where I am now than have that degree in journalism,” he told her. 

 

“Why? You said that writing had been your dream.” Betty sipped the glass of water that Fangs had forced into her hand, knowing that she wasn’t able to handle too much alcohol before she became loopy. 

 

“I wouldn’t have met you,” he replied. 

 

“Bullshit,” she said. “I was in journalism, too. There weren’t too many students in our year. We still would have met. What’s the real reason?” 

 

“I...” he began. “I wanted my parents to use that money for my sister’s college fund,” Jughead admitted. “I told them to take whatever money they were going to give to me and give it to Jellybean.” 

 

“That’s sweet, Jug,” she replied, placing a hand on his forearm. 

 

“I had the opportunity with Mr. Lodge, and I can’t say I’m complaining. He pays well.” 

 

“I bet he does,” Betty replied. Jughead nodded as he finished the rest of his first drink. “But since we moved into the Pembrooke, the girls and I seem to have a bit too much money in our hands...” 

 

“I couldn’t let you--” 

 

“I could pay for your tuition with the money from my book sales,” Betty offered. 

 

“I couldn’t do that to you, Betts.” 

 

“I insist, if you ever want to go down that route.” She took another swig of water. “Believe me, having a bestseller has its monetary perks.” They smiled kindly at each other. “Alright, I’ve gotta use the bathroom. I’ll be right back. Would you mind looking after Hot Dog? I don’t like taking him in the bathroom with me.” 

 

“Absolutely,” Jughead replied with a smile as Betty got out of her seat and walked towards the back of the bar. 

 

When she turned towards the back, she though she caught a glimpse of someone familiar, but she looked back and only saw Jughead with Hot Dog. Facing forward again, Betty found her way into the women’s bathroom. 

 

**\---**

 

Jughead couldn’t see all the way back into where the bathrooms were, but he knew where they were located. As he waited for Betty to come back, he played with the ice cubes in his drink. Fangs came around, asking if he wanted a refill, but he declined, offering to pay the bill for his and Betty’s drinks instead. After Fangs left and the transaction was complete, Hot Dog stood up. 

 

He pulled on the leash, making Jughead notice him. His nose hit the air, sniffing intently. Suddenly, Hot Dog’s head pointed towards the bathrooms. Jughead watched him try to head in that direction, but he was stopped by the leash Jughead was holding. The fluffy white sheepdog looked in his direction seriously, causing Jughead to get up immediately. 

 

He followed the sheepdog, dodging other people in the bar, until Hot Dog began to growl. 

 

Jughead saw what Hot Dog had sensed in front of him. 

 

Malachi Gonzalez had pinned Betty against the wall by her wrists in the hallway to the bathrooms. The blonde was putting up a fight against the evidently drunk man. In an obvious attempt to gain the attention of others, Betty started kicking the wall behind her, tears running down her face as she tried to escape and as Malachi tried to press himself against Betty. 

 

Jughead, shocked, dropped Hot Dog’s leash, shoving past the few people standing between them. He ran the rest of the distance, the sheepdog on his tail. Before anyone could register what was going on, Jughead gave Malachi a nasty right hook, knocking the man unconscious and to the ground. He looked back at Betty. She was flustered and shaking madly. 

 

“Betty?” he asked. She could do nothing but let the tears fall from her eyes. He gently framed her face with his hands and directed her eyes to him. She still looked afraid. “I’m going to get you out of here, okay?” 

 

She couldn’t nod and she couldn’t speak because she was so paralyzed by fear. Jughead wrapped an arm around Betty’s waist, pulling her through the bar as her eyes were shut tightly, fighting more silent tears. The death grip on his hoodie was enough for Jughead to pull out his phone and call Edgar. 

 

“We need a pickup. It’s urgent,” he told him, then hung up, slipping his phone into his pocket and grabbing Hot Dog’s leash on their way out. 

 

Jughead continued to haul Betty out of the bar as quick as possible. When they finally hit the cool night air, Betty’s forehead dropped to his shoulder. Edgar was waiting for them to come out. He rushed to them, taking Hot Dog and letting him in the car as Jughead pulled Betty further. 

 

As the blonde scrambled inside, Jughead looked to Edgar. 

 

“Step on it. I’ll get this door.” The chauffeur nodded in response as he and Jughead shut their doors at the same time. When Edgar hit the gas harshly, Jughead threw an arm across Betty’s body to keep her on the seat. They soon settled into the speed. Jughead sighed in relief and looked over at Betty. 

 

She was curled in a ball, back to the alternate door, crying and pointing. 

 

“M-M--” 

 

_ She thought he was Malachi. _

 

Jughead quickly flipped on the overhead light and allowed his face to be illuminated by it. He grabbed her hands, uncurling her fingers before she could make any cuts in her palms. 

 

“Betty,” he pleaded. “Betty, it’s me. It’s Jughead. You’re safe. You’re okay now.” 

 

She immediately relaxed at his words, and Jughead took his hands away from hers, understanding that she may not want to be touched after encountering Malachi. He slid away slightly to give her some space, and she allowed her feet to come in contact with the car’s floor. Still in a moment of realization, Betty’s jaw was slightly slacked as she inched towards Jughead on the bench of the backseat. 

 

Betty slid only close enough to Jughead so that she could take his face in both hands and pull his eyes down to hers. She got lost in the crystal blue depths, just like she had the day they met. 

 

“I guess I owe you threefold now,” she whispered, letting her thumb caress his cheek gently. Betty slowly pulled his face to hers as her nose buried itself in his cheek and their lips connected softly. 

 

It was gentle and smooth. Her pillowy lips pressed against his came to a halt suddenly as she pulled away. Jughead opened his eyes and could see that she was only gauging his reaction. 

 

“Is that okay?” Betty asked. 

 

“More than okay,” he whispered, placing his hands on the sides of her face, pulling her lips back to his. 

 

They continued to kiss, deepening it ever so slightly with Jughead’s hands pulling her in by the waist. He slid his tongue across her bottom lip, asking for permission. She granted it to him as he discreetly went to turn off the cabin light with the click of a button under his finger. 

 

Suddenly, the car stopped, and they pulled apart, lips red and slightly swollen from their makeout session. Jughead and Betty were catapulted into reality. 

 

“Thanks, Edgar,” Jughead said, opening the door to the car and stepping out, pulling Betty and Hot Dog behind him. 

 

“Any time, Jones,” he replied and pulled away from the curb. 

 

When he was gone, Jughead turned to Betty and held her in his arms. She’d wrapped her arms around his back. 

 

“Let’s go,” he said, taking one of Betty’s hands and pulling her into the Pembrooke. She giggled as he did it. Seeing no one behind the front desk, Jughead rolled his eyes, kept his hold on Betty’s hand, and went around to the other side, punching in the code for the 14the floor and flipping the switch. An elevator almost automatically appeared at ground level. This time, Betty pulled Jughead along so that they almost crashed into the back wall. The doors shut behind Hot Dog, who was basically a third wheel at this point. 

 

Betty grabbed Jughead’s face after pressing the 14th floor button, bringing his lips to hers in a feathery exchange. Jughead held Betty by her waist as her hands found their way into his dark hair, brushing through and gripping gently at the root. 

 

They pulled apart once more when the elevator reached their floor. Betty pulled them both off, but stopped to take Hot Dog’s leash off. The sheepdog took the hint and made himself cozy in one of the dog beds set out in the living room. They both watched him go, and looked back at each other, hands still clasped. Betty had pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. 

 

Taking the bait, Jughead nearly pulled her by the waistline of her skirt towards her bedroom. They entered the room sloppily, fumbling over their shoes as Jughead locked the door behind them. Betty toed off her ballet flats and kicked them to the side, reaching for Jughead’s neck to pull him in for another kiss. When she reached him, he stopped her gently. 

 

“Are you sure about this, Betts?” he asked softly. “I’m not usually one to--” 

 

“Me neither,” she whispered. “Or ever, really. I’ve never trusted someone this much with my body before.” 

 

Jughead looked for his wallet in his back pocket. 

 

“Shit, I don’t have a condom.” 

 

“I’m on birth control for my cycle. I take it daily.” 

 

There was an awkward pause. 

 

“You’re sure about this?” Jughead asked as he untucked her top from her pink skirt. Betty pulled his head down so that they were looking into each other’s eyes in the dark. Jughead stopped what he was doing.

 

“I have never been more sure, Juggie,” she whispered. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers again. 

 

“Then let me take you to oblivion, Betts,” he muttered huskily into her ear. 

 

Jughead picked her up and she giggled as he threw her playfully onto the bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOOOHHHHHHH BOYYYYYYYY
> 
> HERE WE GO
> 
> WE HAVE BONFIRE


	7. ptsd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> post-traumatic stress disorder: a condition of persistent mental and emotional stress occurring as a result of injury or severe psychological shock, typically involving disturbance of sleep and constant vivid recall of the experience, with dulled responses to others and to the outside world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, this fucker right here is more than 40 pages. 
> 
> I don’t know how many it is, but it’s more than 40 pages long. 
> 
> This chapter is my child and I hope you guys like it.
> 
> Bring tissues.
> 
> Update: 45 pages, 18.1K words. Continue.

She dreamed that night of how he had praised her body, how her lips met his, and how his hands wandered. She could almost feel his fingers brushing across her ribs so gently and dancing down her skin to rest on the bone of her hip. The way he left soft, gentle kisses against her neck and collarbone drove her wild. The manner in which he had snapped his hips into hers made her see white as she kept a hearty grip on the hair at the back of his head. And when it all came to its peak, she saw stars as he peppered kisses to her forehead.

 

Her body had fallen limp against the bed, exhausted but extremely happy. When he had fallen next to her, he cradled her in his arms for only a minute before suggesting she go to the bathroom. When she got up, he let go of her regretfully but with understanding. When she came back, she had on his t-shirt and her underwear again. She gave him a kiss to the cheek before he went to the bathroom to do the same. He returned in his boxers, hair a mess from her fingers, and a content smile on his face.

 

He’d snuggled under the covers, moving up to Betty and holding her small frame in his arms. He tucked his head down into her shoulder as they spooned and whispered against the t-shirt covering her skin.

 

“That was amazing.”

 

She reached a hand to the back of his head, brushing her fingers through his hair once more.

 

 _“You’re_ amazing,” she whispered back, evidently close to slipping into sleep.

 

Her eyes had shut and her body relaxed in his arms as they both drifted to sleep.

 

It was this exact memory replayed in her dreams that made her come back to consciousness.

 

The sun shining on her face combined with the feeling of her cheek being nuzzled woke Betty up. Two arms encircled nearly her whole torso, holding her gently but strongly. She felt something fluffy lightly grazing her jawbone and something else was gentle and soft against her neck.

 

Tilting her head ever so slightly, Betty could tell that Jughead was pressing small kisses near where she knew her pulse was. She grinned, taking her lip between her teeth as his hair continued to tickle her jaw. When he tilted his head and kissed the soft spot behind her earlobe, she giggled.

 

“Oh, so you _are_ awake,” he mumbled, slightly amused. He pressed another kiss behind her ear and she tried to wiggle away, still giggling. She ended up on her back

 

“Oh no you don’t,” Jughead mused, tugging her body towards him and keeping her close. He leaned over her face and kissed her soundly, effectively silencing her. She stopped trying to get away, placing a hand on his face to keep his lips attached to hers. Betty melted into him, using her other hand to hold onto his arm. They pushed and pulled slightly before Jughead pulled away completely. Their eyes flickered open as Jughead pushed one of Betty’s blonde curls away from her face.

 

“So how is Betty Cooper on this fine Sunday morning?” Jughead asked, almost getting lost in the green brilliance of her eyes.

 

“Well, I’m a little sore...” she began, making Jughead smile. “But I feel good. Very well rested, too.”

 

“Good,” he replied. “I hope I’m not to forward in assuming that we’re going to continue this.”

 

“No, of course not. I trust you too much to let you get away from me,” Betty said, playing with a curl of hair at the back of his neck. He smiled and leaned down to her again, capturing her lips with his.

 

Betty could feel the electricity contained in their touches, in their kisses. As they reattached to continue kissing, Betty pulled him down even more to deepen it. It was tender and sensual, but it elicited a breathy moan from Betty that was immediately swallowed by Jughead. Her hands moved down to the sides of Jughead’s neck and found their way to smooth across his chest.

 

Betty was surprised when he pulled away abruptly, his eyes wide and bearing into hers. He held her face in his hands and rested his forehead against hers as he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

 

“You’re...” he whispered. “You’re _so beautiful,”_ he choked out, pushing a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear. Betty leaned into his feathery touch, not breaking eye contact with him.

 

She leaned up to meet him in a gentle kiss. Jughead immediately shifted his hold on her, placing an arm on her back and his hand near the top of her neck, supporting her head. Just as he was pulling her upright to sit in his lap, there was a knock on the door behind him.

 

Startled, Jughead nearly dropped Betty and fell in the opposite direction, but she grabbed onto his neck. He fell on top of her as the door opened.

 

“What the hell?” Cheryl asked from the doorway. Jughead quickly rolled to the other side of the bed, making sure to pull the covers up over Betty and muttering a quick apology for falling on her.

 

“Cheryl!” Betty exclaimed, sitting up. “I told you to let me respond before you come in!”

 

“I knew I expected something, but it _definitely_ wasn’t what I’m seeing now...” Cheryl explained.

 

“Get out!” Betty added. Cheryl quickly shut the door and left the room. The blonde looked at Jughead, and she realized that they were both blushing madly.

 

“They were going to find out anyways,” Jughead groaned, pushing a hand through his hair. Betty smiled and tucked herself into his side, placing a hand on his chest and looking up at him.

 

“The teasing is to be expected,” she began. “But I could get used to this,” Betty added, moving up to meet Jughead in a sweet kiss, both of them smiling into it. Betty pulled back this time.

 

“I’m pretty sure that Cheryl is talking her mouth off about us now,” Betty said.

 

“I don’t have a problem with that. I’m too smug.” Betty smiled and blushed at his statement, but continued.

 

“We’re going to owe them an explanation when we go out there, so we might as well go now and get it over with.” Jughead pulled on her shoulders covered by her t-shirt and tugged her into his chest.

 

“I don’t wanna,” he replied.

 

“I’ll make you bacon...” she offered.

 

“Why didn’t you say that earlier?” he asked enthusiastically, letting go of Betty and getting up. Betty stayed in the bed and looked up at him with a smile on her face. He realized why she was smiling. “May I have my shirt back, please?”

 

“I like you better like this,” she replied, eyes raking over his toned torso.

 

“Yes, but it’s for your eyes only,” he said. “So I need my shirt.”

 

“But it’s comfortable...” she complained.

 

“But I don’t have another shirt in here,” he argued. “So I need that one.”

 

Betty rolled onto her back, crossing her arms over her chest. Jughead quickly jumped on her bed, surprising Betty. She tried to scramble away, but Jughead rolled her onto her back again and threw a leg over her hips, sitting on top of her to hold her down.

 

“Betty Cooper, you are a _tease,”_ he joked, beginning to tickle Betty’s sides. She burst into a fit of the giggles, pleading for Jughead to stop through fits of laughter. She continued to wiggle under his hold as Jughead refused to relent.

 

“I’ll only stop if you give me my shirt,” he offered.

 

“Not... in your... dreams... _JUG!”_  she squealed, breaking into laughter again.

 

“I guess I’m going to have to tear it off you then,” he replied, grabbing the bottom of his t-shirt from near where her hips were. He bunched it up, beginning to pull it off. Jughead somehow got his navy t-shirt past her shoulders and over her head as she kept wiggling with the laugh-inducing touches he made to her sides. He stopped once he was holding the shirt.

 

“Noooooo,” she groaned. Jughead looked down at her, realizing she was shirtless again in that same pastel pink bra and pantie set he had gently taken off of her the night before. He was mesmerized by the way she looked in the lingerie, her creamy skin contrasting with the pastel of the fabric.

 

Jughead brought the t-shirt to eye level, seeing it was balled up. He looked between the blonde under him and the blue t-shirt. Then he threw the t-shirt to the other side of the room, sitting back and lifting Betty into his lap. Their lips met in a searing kiss as Betty scrambled to root herself in his hair. Their chests pressed together and Jughead groaned into Betty’s mouth as he splayed his hands on her hips to keep Betty stable.

 

The door behind them opened quickly, startling both of them and making Jughead fall backwards this time, Betty crashing down on top of him. The blonde looked up and saw her friends in the doorway.

 

“You fuckers need to knock!” Betty screamed, looking at Toni and Veronica, who’s jaws had dropped at the sight of Betty on top of Jughead. Betty realized she was shirtless. “Oh, shit...”

 

Jughead tilted his head back to see the women standing in the doorway. He blushed immediately and waved awkwardly.

 

“We’ll just... shut this...” Veronica said choppily, still shocked by the sight. She and Toni quickly closed the door.

 

Betty and Jughead looked at each other again.

 

“Well...” Jughead began. “The cat’s out of the bag...” Betty nodded. “So how about that bacon?”

 

**\---**

 

A lengthy interrogation and many strips of bacon later, Betty and Jughead were cuddled up on the couch, legs covered by a blanket. Wanting a break from all of the classic film that had been played in the penthouse, Cheryl and Veronica pleaded that they watched a Disney movie. Desperately trying to avoid a princess movie, Jughead chose _Hercules._ Betty had no problem with that, so she popped it in the DVD player and let it run.

 

The bargaining with the movie choice was not one debated easily. Veronica added popcorn to the incentives of watching a Disney movie, which made Jughead grab the _Hercules_ case from the DVD collection. Accompanying the blanket, the sheepdog at their feet, and Betty’s head on his shoulder, there was a bowl of fresh popcorn in Jughead’s lap. He was eating most of it, but Betty took a few pieces from time to time.

 

The mythology aspect of the movie got them talking, and they got distracted easily with that topic.

 

“I feel like this movie doesn’t do a good job of displaying Hades,” Jughead had said. Betty looked up at him, confused. “Like, I understand he is the villain of this movie, but he was in love, too.”

 

“With Persephone...” Betty muttered.

 

“Exactly. Hades wouldn’t be so uptight if he had his wife with him.”

 

“You mean his niece...” Betty added jokingly.

 

“Incest is a weird concept in Greek mythology, so let’s nix it for now, Betts.” He paused to let her laugh. “Anyways, isn’t it said that Persephone went willingly with Hades? That she consented?”

 

“No. She was kidnapped,” Betty said. “But she learned to love him.”

 

“That’s right. Forgot about that minor detail.”

 

“Kidnapping is _minor_ to you?”

 

“That was sarcasm, Betty.”

 

“I know.” She snuggled even closer to him. There was a pause filled with the noise from the TV and the silence between them.

 

“I can see Persephone being like you,” he blurted out. He wasn’t ashamed. It was his opinion. She simply looked up at him and smiled. “Beautiful... smart... kind... graceful...”

 

“I am _not_ graceful,” Betty retorted. “You haven’t seen me trip over my own feet yet.” Jughead smiled as she giggled.

 

“Okay, well trade graceful for... brilliant, or radiant, or intoxicating...”

 

“You think I’m intoxicating?”

 

“Delightfully so.” He paused only for a moment as he looked into her emerald green eyes. “I can’t get enough of Betty Cooper,” Jughead whispered hoarsely.

 

“Well... If I’m Persephone, like you say, I think you could be Hades,” Betty continued. “Bold, protective... you have your wants...”

 

“Only for my Persephone,” He interrupted.

 

“Is that so?” Betty asked.

 

“Well, when Persephone embodies the definition of a goddess, I can’t help myself too much, can I?”

 

Betty blushed as Jughead placed the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front of them and began to lay the blonde on the couch, hovering over her.

 

“Well, when Hades looks like pure sin with his shirt off,” Betty quipped back, bunching the fabric of Jughead’s shirt in her hands and pulling him closer to meet him in a bruising kiss. He pulled back after a moment, only wanting a taste of her for now. They looked into each other’s eyes.

 

“Last night was that good for you, huh?” He asked.

 

“So good,” she nearly moaned.

 

“I just... want to ask you a question first. Is that okay?”

 

“Shoot,” she replied.

 

“This is super off-topic, but it’s been clawing at my mind all morning...” Betty nodded, encouraging him to continue. “Have you ever considered getting a restraining order on Malachi?” Jughead asked.

 

“Yes... but I can’t.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Betty sighed, preparing to answer his question.

 

“Soon after I published my book, my parents started showing up at work. They were there to berate me for what I released to the public about them... Security was alerted and they were both removed from the building,” Betty admitted. “Veronica convinced me to try and get a restraining order on them. She, Toni, Cheryl, and I were on board to get it done, but...”

 

“But what?” Jughead asked, trying to coax the answer out.

 

“We were denied,” Betty whispered, trying to keep the tears at bay. “The judge said that I didn’t have any proof of the physical abuse. There were no pictures, no videos, no physical evidence of my parents beating me black and blue and bloody, so they had to dismiss the case.”

 

She turned away from him, letting her head move so that she was looking at the couch cushions.

 

“I no longer have any faith in the justice system...” she whispered. “They said it was because I had the inability to prove that they beat me.”

 

“Didn’t Cheryl and Toni testify when they picked you up from your house?”

 

“They tried, but they had been drinking a little before they picked me up. It wasn’t much alcohol, but it was enough that my parents’ lawyers were able to dismiss them.”

 

Betty let out a single sob and brought a shaky hand up to cover her mouth. Jughead somberly took that hand in his own and used his other hand to turn her gaze back to him. He wiped the tears from her face, calming her down slowly.

 

“You already looked into getting another for Malachi, didn’t you?” Jughead asked. Betty paused, but shut her eyes and nodded.

 

Jughead immediately lowered himself to place his hands under her shoulders and pulled Betty upright. She placed herself into Jughead’s lap, straddling his legs, and hugging him tightly. She rested her forehead on his shoulder, breathing in the smell of him, and feeling his emotional stability.

 

“There isn’t any physical evidence,” she whispered in his ear as he slung his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. “No pictures, no video I could show...”

 

“I’m a witness. Cheryl, Toni, and Veronica, too. We’ve all seen it.”

 

Betty pulled away from the inside of his neck to look at him.

 

“I know you said you have no faith in the justice system anymore, but I would be more than happy to testify on your behalf,” Jughead whispered. “You can’t just keep running from him for the rest of your life.”

 

Betty nodded as Jughead reached a hand up to brush one of her blonde curls behind her ear.

 

“But let it be known, that whatever you choose to do, you will always be safe in the Underworld, Persephone.”

 

She smiled, her eyes lighting up immediately as a stray tear graced her face. She was about to giggle when she kissed Jughead, connecting with him once more.

 

“Thank you, Hades,” she muttered between their lips.

 

**\---**

 

When Jughead woke later, he was stretched out on the couch, sitting up because he was leaning into the corner of the back of the couch and the armrest. He could see the white and grey sheepdog still at their feet, laying diligently and awaiting something - anything - to happen. Jughead was surprised to find his torso at an incline, but ignored it when he found something better to think about.

 

After their short and emotional makeout, Betty had curled herself in a ball on top of Jughead. Her head was resting on his shoulder, her hands were folded on his chest, and her knees were tucked into herself as she laid her entire body on him. Jughead only then realized that he had one hand around her waist and the other tangled between her hands on his chest. They were both covered by a blanket that was keeping them both warm.

 

Her small, delicate frame didn’t weigh too much, but Jughead felt as if a cat fell asleep on him (in the regard that he didn’t want to disturb Betty’s sleeping by moving). He didn’t budge, and he didn’t want to budge. A stunning, smart, usually bubbly blonde was using his chest as her personal mattress. Why would he want to change that?

 

Suddenly, Toni emerged from the hall that led to her bedroom. She and Jughead immediately made eye contact. The pink-haired publicist froze where she was, seeing the author curled up on her bodyguard, obviously comfortable and sleeping. Jughead quickly brought a finger to his lips, signaling for Toni not to wake up Betty. Toni nodded, turned around, and walked back to her room.

 

He focused his attention again on Betty sleeping in his arms, moving his hand from where it was against his lips and gently buried his fingers in Betty’s soft, blonde curls, carefully brushing through. The blonde stirred and let out a small, contented sigh, but didn’t wake. Jughead smiled happily and continued running his fingers through her hair.

 

Jughead hadn’t truly expected Betty to want to sleep with him after their first date. The previous night, she had assured him over and over again that she wanted him as much, if not more, than he wanted her. He wasn’t one to second-guess himself, but he had just wanted to make sure Betty enjoyed it and that they weren’t moving too fast for her liking. He was being careful around her, trying to make sure she was comfortable with what they were doing.

 

Every kiss he cherished, every hug made him feel like he could fly, every laugh or smile that he got from her made the sun shine brighter. Her happiness was something he would never impede on. He wanted to make sure she was safe, that she was cared for, that she could find happiness after all of the terrible things she had gone through. The blonde currently sleeping on his chest was content, and Jughead couldn’t think of anything else he would rather do than be a pillow for her to sleep on.

 

Gently, Jughead tucked Betty’s hair behind her ear, exposing it. His soft touch brushed the skin on her face that was right in front of the opening of her ear. She nuzzled her face into his shirt and Jughead felt her eyelashes flutter against his chest. Jughead continued to stroke her hair tenderly as she tilted her head to look at him.

 

“Hey,” she whispered sleepily.

 

“Hey,” he replied. “Comfortable?” She smiled and chuckled lightly, realizing how she was in a ball on his chest.

 

“Yeah... Definitely.”

 

“Good.” He paused. “Still a little sore?” She knew exactly what he was talking about and blushed brightly at the implication.

 

“Yeah,” she replied bashfully. “A little bit...”

 

“Was it worth it?” he joked.

 

“Absolutely,” she replied seriously, still smiling. Jughead beamed at her and she broke into a fit of giggles, continuing to blush.

 

“What happened to the innocent Betty Cooper I once knew?” Jughead joked again. Betty laughed a little more before answering.

 

“You made her very, very happy last night and she can’t thank you enough,” she giggled, pushing herself up to take hold of the sides of his face. She pulled herself the rest of the way, closing the gap between them to press her lips to his.

 

They were laying on top of each other now. Betty’s body had stretched itself out to accommodate her being flat on top of him, kissing the life out of Jughead. The blanket was pooled at her hips and Jughead brushed by it as his hands wandered to hold her sides. The kiss was slow and soft, tender even, and had Jughead feeling like he was dreaming. In his mind, there was no way that such a beautiful woman would ever want to kiss him, let alone have sex with him.

 

Betty thought he was a handsome man with a beautiful soul. Protective, caring, kind, helpful, and she couldn’t deny that he had a good right hook (even though she didn’t remember too much from when Malachi approached her, Jughead’s punch to Malachi’s face was definitely a highlight). She couldn’t help but think as she kissed him, about how he protected her so diligently, even before they knew each other. He had saved her from a dangerous situation three times: the first time behind Pop’s, the second time in the same spot (before they realized he had saved her the first time), and the third time had been the previous night at the bar.

 

She was nothing but thankful for his presence, for who he was. They were beyond being a famous author and a bodyguard. No, they actually meant something to each other now. To Betty, he was no longer the man that was being paid to protect her (though he still was that). He was the only one in the penthouse that she could talk to about her favorite books and movies. He helped her to open up about her traumatic experiences, and showed her that despite what her parents had told her occasionally, she felt that she could be loved, even if Jughead had only loved her as a friend.

 

There was no question in Jughead’s mind that Betty was one of the greatest people to ever come into his life. She radiated happiness, despite the terrible things she had gone through. She was easily the strongest person he knew, and he admired her not only because she was brave enough to share her story with the world, but to also share the extended story with himself, Veronica, Toni, and Cheryl. He thought that the way the four women stuck together was awesome. It obviously helped Betty to have a pool of support and encouragement, and Jughead felt himself realizing that he had become part of that group. He was no longer just the only guy in the apartment, and he didn’t know how Betty would feel if he immediately put a label on what they were, but he was at the least _very_ good friends with her. That meant something to him. She was no longer the blonde author he protected, but the was the one that could intoxicate him by simply smiling at him.

 

Both of them were torn away from their thoughts when Jughead pulled on Betty’s lip with his teeth and she moaned quietly in response. The blonde simply pushed her lips harder against Jughead’s as her fingers found their way into his fluffy, dark hair. She tugged on his tresses, eliciting Jughead to bring his hand up to cup the back of her neck, fingers cradling the back of her head. He changed the angle of his head to pull Betty along with him, forcing her closer to him as their tongues danced softly. Heartrates increased and their breathing became slightly ragged as the kiss deepened even more. Betty hummed against Jughead’s lips as his hands moved to her t-shirt, pushing it up just enough to leave small circles on her creamy skin with his thumbs.

 

“Cheryl, get the holy water. We need to consecrate the couch now,” Veronica said suddenly, startling both of them, and causing Betty to quickly topple off of Jughead to land between his body and the back of the couch. Both looked up to see the raven-haired woman standing at the entrance to the hallway leading off from the living room.

 

“Come on, Veronica,” Jughead said, rolling his eyes as Betty hid her face in his shoulder and blushed. “Consecration is a bit much, don’t you think?”

 

“Having your tongue that far down Betty’s throat is a bit much, don’t you think?”

 

“Touche,” he replied as Betty snickered into Jughead’s shoulder, her cheeks continuing to flush bright red.

 

“Consecrating the couch can be put on the back burner,” Veronica said. “I really came out here because Midge Klump and Ethel Muggs want to do another interview on their show with Betty. And _maybe_ if she’d get her face out of your shoulder, she would see that next Saturday--”

 

“They want to do it next Saturday?” Betty asked, pushing against Jughead’s chest to sit up and look at her best friend.

 

“Yeah. Why, are you-- oh,” Veronica said, realizing why Betty had been shocked. “I’ll call them back and see if we can reschedule. You still want to do the interview, though, right?”

 

“Yeah, I want to do it, just... not that day,” Betty replied.

 

“I’ll have Toni call them back. Sorry I interrupted,” Veronica said, turning on her heel and exiting the room. Jughead looked up at Betty, and he realized her back was to him. He took one of his hands and placed it softly on her back, trying to find any tense muscles to soothe with his fingers. She seemed stiff, and Jughead was eager to change that, to get her to step out of her mind.

 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Jughead asked. Betty straightened up at his words and her head whipped around to look at him as he rubbed her back sweetly. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah... Yeah, I was just thinking. Sorry.”

 

“Don’t apologize for using that beautiful brain of yours, Betty,” he replied. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

 

“Promise?” Jughead asked with a joking tone.

 

“Promise,” she replied, letting a soft smile slip onto her face. “Veronica really ruined the mood, didn’t she?”

 

“I’ll say.”

 

“Is it bad to say that I enjoy this too much?”

 

“Depends... What are you enjoying too much?”

 

“You. Spending time with you. Kissing you. Cuddling with you... And, um...”

 

“The sex?”

 

“Yeah,” she replied, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “It... Last night was my first time, and you just... made it so amazing, Jug.”

 

“Really?” he asked. She nodded.

 

“It was so good.”

 

“Want a repeat?” Jughead asked smugly.

 

Betty bit down harder on her lip as she smiled, nodding eagerly.

 

**\---**

 

Over the next week, Betty and Jughead were nearly inseparable. They went to _The New York Times_ together, where they had to pretend that they were simply the protector and the protected, though Jughead didn’t mind stealing a quick kiss from Betty when Kevin went to get lunch for them. They could tell that Kevin knew a change had occurred between the two, but Kevin just thought they were really good friends again.

 

Betty and Jughead were constantly found together. They didn’t leave each other’s side for (what seemed like) more than a minute. Most times, they were found innocently by Veronica, Cheryl, or Toni: cuddling or sleeping on the couch in the living room, simply spending time together in her or his room, sitting together at dinner (sometimes caught in their own bubble while the rest of them tried having a conversation). On other occasions, they were found not so innocently: they had been caught making out on the couch once or twice and they had once accidentally admitted to showering together. Other than the first morning where they were found scantily-clad, Betty and Jughead weren’t found indecent.

 

Living in a house of five, it wasn’t uncommon to see displays of affection in the penthouse. Cheryl and Toni had their share of Betty or Veronica walking in at the wrong time during the beginning of their relationship, though they were sometimes found making out in the kitchen or on the couch. No one ever walked in on them in their room together. They kept the door locked when they needed to.

 

Betty smiled and laughed more over that week than Toni, Cheryl, and Veronica had ever seen. She seemed constantly happy, and Hot Dog could simply keep track of Betty’s emotions by sitting in the corner and watching her. He still monitored her while she slept with Jughead. For once, it seemed like Hot Dog was just the adored house pet that got table scraps from time to time, even though he was still doing his job. He still went with Betty everywhere and he accepted more ear scratches than he normally did because Betty was continually happy and grateful for Hot Dog to be there too.

 

Like the sheepdog, Jughead was still on the clock when he left the penthouse with Betty. Though they shared a new intimacy, Jughead was still forced to maintain his professionalism when they were in the presence of others, mostly on the street. Taking Betty to and from _The New York Times,_ Jughead couldn’t show Betty any sort of affection beyond what his job required. If he was in his casual clothes with her, he could do as much as was socially acceptable.

 

Through the week, Betty had noticed Veronica being absent a little more than she had been in a while. She claimed extra work hours, but Betty would only take that excuse once. When she asked Jughead about if he’d noticed, he told her not to worry about it.

 

“If you’re worried about what Veronica is doing, don’t,” he told her. “She can handle herself.”

 

“But I’m worried that she’s keeping secrets. That’s not like her!”

 

“Look, Betty. You two have been best friends for a good while now... about four, five years. It seems like you’ve been glued at the hip for that amount of time. Your relationship with me is probably one of the first things that you haven’t been able to pursue together, yes?”

 

Betty giggled at the implication, but Jughead looked at her, his eyes saying _That was a serious question, not me trying to start a threesome._

 

“I guess so,” Betty replied.

 

“Then... maybe she’s trying something of her own. You’ve got your own thing,” he said, pointing to his face. Betty laughed, but Jughead continued and she stopped. “Let Ronnie have a piece away from you, too.”

 

Because Betty and Jughead had been so close over the week that the women of the house didn’t get much time with her, Cheryl, Toni, and Veronica talked with Reggie and Archie to try and separate the two for a little so they could all have friend time.

 

Betty and Jughead were both shocked on that Friday night when Jughead was being taken into the elevator by Archie and Reggie to go get a few drinks, while Betty sat there and watched as the doors closed behind him.

 

When the guys were gone, Betty turned to her friends.

 

“What’d you do that for?” she asked.

 

“Archie and Reggie wanted to spend time with their childhood friend, and we wanted to have a girls’ night with you,” Cheryl replied quickly. “It’s been a while, B.”

 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Betty replied, picking up her wine glass from where it was on the table and taking a sip. “Alright... What’s first? Monopoly or facemasks?”

 

“Both!” Veronica answered from the hall, arms full of paper masks in packages and bottles full of liquid masks. “Take your pick, girls. We’re here all night!”

 

**\---**

 

“You guys suck for doing this,” Jughead grumbled after the elevator doors closed. “And impromptu, too.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“We know you want to be with Betty, but we’ve barely had the chance to hang out with you ever since you’ve moved in with all of them,” Archie said. “Plus, the girls wanted time with her.”

 

“Don’t be so angry, Jug,” Reggie added. “You’ve had _plenty_ of time with your girl according to Veronica and Cheryl. Us bros need to get back to seeing each other regularly.”

 

“We’re just taking you out for a few drinks, then you can go back to Betty,” Archie told Jughead, placing a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Alright,” Jughead said, dropping his arms. “Let’s do it.”

 

“Three Musketeers reunite!” Reggie exclaimed as the elevator doors opened to the lobby, the man ruffling Jughead’s dark hair.

 

They ended up at a nicer club that could have been mistaken for a rave of some sort. There was drinking and partying going on in the dark club, colored spotlights waving around the room. The music was loud, but not unbearable. All three of the men were dressed casually, but almost as soon as they found a place to sit down, they had ordered drinks.

 

The whole time they were there, Jughead wished that he had been there with Betty. He didn’t really know if she would enjoy the bumping bass of the club, but wondered if she would have pulled him onto the dance floor. His mind wandered on that subject after seeing some of the dancing that was actually going on in the club. He was taking a sip of his drink when he envisioned Betty dancing on him like the people that were currently on the dance floor.

 

He almost spit his drink out, but instead swallowed harshly, shifting in his seat at the intriguing idea.

 

“You good, Jug?” Archie asked after he saw the way that his friend had changed how he was sitting.

 

“Yeah,” Jughead replied, almost sounding unsure. “Yeah, I’m good. Where’d Reggie go?” He was trying to change the topic, shifting his attention away from the one that could reveal how much he wanted to be with Betty.

 

“A few girls came over, asking to dance with Reggie and I, but I declined. Reggie is over there,” Archie said, pointing where a woman was visibly attracted to the stud that was his childhood best friend.

 

“Archie turning down a girl? Pigs must be flying,” Jughead added with a grin. Archie slugged him in the arm gently while they both laughed. “Seriously, dude. What’s up with you?” He placed his glass on the table with a slight clink.

 

“Just wasn’t feeling the dancing part. I’d wanted to go to the Whyte Wyrm - you know, our usual spot, but Reggie wanted this place for the dancing and their _superior selection in music,”_ the redhead said, mocking Reggie’s voice. Jughead nodded, taking a much more contented sip of his drink this time, not needing to choke on the liquid like he had before.

 

“Well I can’t say that I am discontented that no one has asked for me to get out there,” Jughead replied.

 

“They would get rejected so quickly,” Archie added.

 

“No one would be able to pull me out there.”

 

“No one?”

 

There was an awkward pause where both of them just looked at each other until Jughead gave in.

 

“Fine. No one except Betty,” Jughead said. Archie grinned.

 

“You really like her, don’t you?”

 

“I mean, of course. She likes books and movies, and she writes for a good news source, so--”

 

“And you respect that she would only take her talents to a _respectable newspaper--”_

 

“Not just that,” Jughead said. “She’s an amazing person. She just wants to live her life freely, Arch, but she’s being held back by her parents and her ex and her own anxieties. I really like her, but I also want to help her.”

 

“She wrote that book that you used to go on and on about, right?”

 

“Her memoir. Yeah. The one I tried to get you and Reggie to read.”

 

“I thought I recognized the title.”

 

“Arch, no offense, but we literally just went to that author’s convention, like, two months ago. If it took you _this long_ to realize that Betty was the one at wrote the memoir--”

 

“Hey, I knew she’d written _a_ memoir. I didn’t know she wrote _the_ memoir,” Archie replied. “There’s a difference.”

 

“Sure there is, Archie. Whatever you say,” Jughead replied, draining the rest of his drink and earning another punch on the shoulder from the redhead. Jughead laughed into the glass before setting it back on the table.

 

“But seriously, though,” Archie continued. “Weren’t you planning on going to college at some point? Once you got enough money from Good Man Lodge?”

 

“I don’t know what to do at this point,” Jughead said. “But Betty offered to pay for my tuition and stuff if I needed it.”

 

“Really? Dude, that’s huge!”

 

“I don’t know if I want to do that, Archie,” Jughead said, a slight aggressiveness in his tone.

 

“You don’t want to take Betty’s money...”

 

“That’s not what bothers me as much.” There was a pause where all that could be felt was the bass in the seat of their chairs.

 

“You don’t want to stop being her bodyguard so you can go to school,” Archie said, realizing what it actually was.

 

Jughead stopped and looked into the redhead’s brown eyes, realizing that he was caught between truth and lie. He nodded slowly. Jughead hadn’t realized that Archie would be able to analyze his sentiments so easily.

 

“I’m afraid of moving in with her... _permanently.”_

 

“You’re already living with her and her friends. What would change?”

 

“She could change her mind,” Jughead replied.

 

“You two seem joined at the hip, so why would she change her mind?”

 

“I... That’s Betty’s story to tell you, Arch. I couldn’t just give that kind of information away.” Jughead signaled to one of the people working for a refill before looking Archie in the eye again.

 

“Okay...” he replied, moving closer to Jughead. “Then tell me enough, just for me to be able to understand, Jug.”

 

Jughead sighed as his drink came back from the bar and he accepted it in his hand. Taking a substantial gulp of the amber liquid, he mustered his wits and began telling him what he could.

 

“Betty’s last boyfriend tried to get her to move in with him really early in their relationship, and she took that as a red flag. I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to do that to her.”

 

“Okay, but if she has let you in, she obviously trusts that you’re different. You’re not going to be like her ex, Jug.”

 

“I... I don’t want to be like him in any way, shape, or form,” Jughead added, his own anxieties about Betty arising in his mind as he finished off the second drink and ordered a third. Archie watched him do it. But Jughead drained that one too. He was going to order a fourth when Archie stopped him.

 

“Dude,” the redhead said, pulling Jughead’s arm down that was trying to wave down a server. “Let me get you a water or something, Jug.”

 

Jughead, who was obviously not sober but not drunk at the same time, nodded and slumped back against his seat. Archie waved down the server, asking for three waters as Reggie began to approach them again. He slid into the open seat after the server left.

 

“Bro, what did you do to Jones?” Reggie asked. “He looks shitfaced.”

 

“He’s not,” Archie replied. “He’s not drunk but he’s definitely not sober. He’s buzzed just enough for tonight. I ordered us all waters: one for him to drink, one for you, and one for me to pour on his face before we take him back to Betty.”

 

“Good thinking,” Reggie said as those water glasses arrived. Archie paid the tab as Jughead silently nursed the glass of water. At first, it looked like he was going to empty it with the same quickness that he had done with the previous drink, but he got halfway and had a brainfreeze from the frigidity of the water. Archie laughed quietly when Jughead winced and announced that he had a brainfreeze, and Reggie almost snorted his own water.

 

Reggie was asked to watch Jughead and make sure he didn’t do anything stupid as Archie went up to the bar to get a paper cup to take his water to go. When he came back, Reggie had already gotten Jughead out of his seat and got Archie to support Jughead’s other side as they walked out. Jughead kept grumbling about something, but neither Archie nor Reggie understood a word of it. He was walking, but there had been a few times where he nearly tripped over his own feet. Somehow the three made it out the door without knocking over anything in the club, and they stepped into the cool, spring night air.

 

The cold sensation on Jughead’s face sobered him up enough so that he registered what was about to happen when Archie and Reggie walked him over to a trashcan and when Archie popped the lid off of the cup of water.

 

“Arch. You ain’t gotta do that, man--” Jughead began as Archie had stepped away from him and was only being supported by Reggie now.

 

“We can’t take you back to Betty like this, dude. We’ve gotta get you a bit more sober. Take off his jacket and help him lean over the trashcan, Reg,” Archie directed. Jughead tried to protest, but he was still too intoxicated to successfully fight against them. Reggie gently made Jughead lean over the trash enough so that his head was directly above the opening.

 

“Guys... We-- I’m fine. Let’s just go back--”

 

Archie poured the cold water over his face before Jughead could get another word out. He stopped when the cup was halfway empty. Jughead shook his head back and forth, shooing the water away from his eyes. He exclaimed because of how cold it was.

 

“Just a little more, Jug. Then you can go see Betty.”

 

“Betty,” Jughead sighed, smiling at the mention of the blonde author. “I miss her. She’s so sweet to--”

 

Archie started pouring the water over Jughead’s face again. He stopped when there was still some more left in the bottom. Jughead pushed his now wet hair back onto his head, raking his fingers through it. Because he was able to stand on his own now, Jughead righted himself and used his fingers to brush away the water on his eyelids so he could see. Archie was extending the cup of water (or what was left of it) towards him. Jughead took it.

 

“Thanks,” He muttered, still not really sober, but much less intoxicated than he had been before. Jughead downed the rest of the water, crunched the cup in his hand, then dropped it into the trashcan. “Can we go see Betty now?” Jughead asked, still in a haze.

 

“Yeah, bro,” Reggie said. Jughead grinned stupidly.

 

“I like her. A lot,” Jughead said as they began to walk in the direction of the Pembrooke.

 

“I’d hope so,” Archie joked, seeing that this clearly buzzed Jughead was being serious.

 

“She’s so nice, and pretty, and smart, and-- and strong. But she’s suuuuper pretty, Archie. She’s a beautiful motherfucking woman, inside and out. Did y’know that, Reggie? Betty’s gorgeous.”

 

Reggie and Archie smiled at their friend’s attraction to the blonde author. No matter how much they would ever tease Jughead about Betty, they knew that Jughead was genuinely happy to have Betty in his life. They could tell that he was in for the long run, just by the way that he spoke of her in that moment. He was so gone for her and it had only been a week.

 

They eventually made it back to the Pembrooke, even after Jughead stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at the stars. His eyes were wide, and his jaw was hanging open at the sight. Reggie and Archie had turned around to see Jughead this way, and Reggie had to go back and pull Jughead along so they could keep going.

 

“I wanna take Betty stargazing, Reggie,” Jughead stated, still obviously intoxicated. “Y’think she’d like that?”

 

“Yeah, whatever you say, bud,” he’d replied, just wanting to get Jughead back up to the penthouse.

 

“She’d love it,” Jughead added. “Yeah. Betty would love that.”

 

“Oh boy,” Archie grumbled. Whenever Betty’s name came up, Jughead seemed to go off on a tangent about her.

 

“Betty, Betty, Betty, Betty...” Jughead sighed. “She’s so friggin’ awesome.” Jughead had started saying _friggin’_ about two blocks back. He was refusing to curse and mention Betty in the same breath.

 

“He’s so fucking smitten,” Reggie whispered to Archie, who simply nodded in agreement as they approached the doors to the Pembrooke. Archie held the door open for them as Reggie pulled Jughead inside the lobby. Jughead looked up and around in awe.

 

“Yeahhh...” Jughead muttered. “This place is fit for a queen. Perfect for Betty.”

 

“Archie, we are so close to getting out of this mess. _Please_ go press the button for the elevator,” Reggie said. He hadn’t been aggressive towards Jughead, but he was starting to get annoyed at how he kept going on and on about Betty. It was a sweet sentiment, but it was redundant. The redhead, meanwhile, ran around to the desk, calling the elevator for immediate transportation to floor 14. Jughead kept looking around with wide eyes as they waited. When the elevator finally arrived, they all stepped in immediately and let the doors close in front of them.

 

“Have you ever noticed how Betty’s hair is golden in the morning sunlight?” Jughead asked, looking between Archie and Reggie.

 

The two friends both facepalmed and didn’t respond.

 

**\---**

 

Toni and Cheryl had gone bankrupt almost thirty minutes ago. Monopoly was a fierce game that showed people’s true colors. Only Veronica and Betty were left now, each with a wine glass in their hand. Hot Dog’s fluffy head rested on one of Betty’s thighs, her legs crossed. Veronica had put on her rarely-seen reading glasses a couple minutes before when Betty had charged her a good amount of fake money for landing on a railroad (she owned _all of them_ and it simply wasn’t fair how much rent she had to pay for such an atrocity).

 

It was simply a battle of wits now. Toni and Cheryl were watching from the couch intently as Betty bought yet another hotel for one of her properties (they had made popcorn after Veronica refused to trade Betty a relatively cheaper property for a Get Out of Jail Free card, which, ironically, was the main property now draining Veronica’s account). They were the two best Monopoly players in the house, even after they had a bit of wine, which was even more impressive.

 

Veronica had been the house champion for a while now, and Betty was eager to kill her win streak. With one hand mindlessly playing with Hot Dog’s fur and the other gripping the wine glass, Betty felt so close to victory. She could tell that Veronica was beginning to get frustrated because she swirled her wine around its glass more than usual, especially with full insurance that they were drinking _the good stuff,_ according to Veronica.

 

Betty could feel victory in her grasp when Veronica looked as if she were about to mortgage a property Betty wanted. That was until the elevator doors opened and three men stepped into the penthouse. All eyes turned on the three guys that had just come into the room. Betty stood up and saw Jughead with a wide grin across his face.

 

“Betty,” he said whimsically, walking towards her quickly. She saw Archie and Reggie try to grab him and hold him back, but Jughead broke their grip and continued towards the blonde. Jughead wrapped Betty in a tight hug. “I missed you, Betty,” he added, burying his face in her neck to inhale her scent. Betty looked confused over Jughead’s shoulder and looked at Archie and Reggie.

 

“He had one too many drinks and we tried to sober him up, but it just made him loopy,” Archie explained quickly. Reggie nodded in agreement.

 

“Well thanks for bringing him back,” Betty added. They nodded and waved to everyone in the penthouse before stepping into the elevator once more and disappearing behind the sliding doors.

 

“You smell good,” Jughead said in her ear. Betty giggled lightly, then pulled away from him to look at her friends.

 

“Alright, I gotta take care of Jug. I tap out for this round, ladies,” Betty said. Toni and Cheryl looked offended, where Veronica let a grin plaster itself on her face. “Goodnight.”

 

“Goodnight, B!” they all said together as Betty pulled Jughead towards her room. Jughead waved enthusiastically at the other three women as he was tugged inside her door. He was a little sad when she let go of his hand almost immediately.

 

Betty quickly turned on the lamps in her room before coming back to Jughead.

 

“Are you okay?” Betty asked.

 

“I feel great,” he replied with the same content, and slightly lazy, smile on his face. “I’m happy to be here with you.” He booped her nose and she smiled.

 

“Well I can’t say I’ve seen drunk Jughead before.”

 

“I’m not drunk,” he said. “Not on alcohol, at least. I’m drunk on _you,_ Betts.”

 

She blushed.

 

“Why?”

 

“Just the thought ‘f you.”

 

“That’s sweet, Jug.”

 

“I just really really like you, and I’m gonna let you in on a lil secret.”

 

“What is it?” Betty asked. He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

 

“I’m scared, Betts,” he whispered. Betty pulled away.

 

“Let me help you get ready for bed and we can talk, okay?” He nodded in response and Betty led him to the bathroom.

 

They showered together, and most of it was Betty helping Jughead get the shampoo and conditioner into his hair and washing his body. Even with the intrigue of the hot water, the buzzed haze didn’t leave Jughead so soon. Betty giggled as she used a towel to dry and fluff up his dark hair, and then again when she had to help him get into a clean set of pajamas.

 

Betty had made sure that Jughead was laying in her bed before putting on more than her undergarments. When she finally crawled under her covers, Jughead laid on top of her, his body encircling hers with his arms. His head rested over her heart and his forehead was pressed against his neck.

 

She hugged his head and neck, pushing her fingers into his damp locks as he laid there peacefully. He hummed and smiled against her skin when she did this.

 

“So...” Betty began. “You wanted to talk about how you’re afraid?”

 

“I really, really like you, Betts,” he rambled, still intoxicated (he was slurring some of his words now). “Like, a lot. And I’m scared y’won’t like how fast this’s goin’.”

 

“I like you a lot too, Jug,” Betty admitted to him. “Even though you probably won’t remember this in the morning, there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

 

“I don’ wanna be like that dummass bastard that hurt you,” he said softly. “I don’ wanna be like him because he’s a dummy for not appreciating what was right infronna him.”

 

“You really _are_ drunk,” Betty giggled.

 

“I’m not drunk, Betts. I’m sappy.” He nuzzled her cheek with his nose. “And I don’ wanna be too forward with ya. I don’ know what I’d do if I pushed y’away.”

 

“Juggie, you’re nothing like him.”

 

“Well I don’ wanna be, so good,” Jughead whispered. “He’s a shiddy ass person, I can tell ya that.”

 

“We both know that,” Betty said.

 

“Yeah, he sucks!” Jughead exclaimed.

 

Betty nodded once with a giggle and continued twirling his hair in her fingers.

 

“Was there anything else?” she asked him.

 

“You’re so pretty, Betty,” he added drunkenly. “So, so pretty and nice and sweet and you’re so adorable when you laugh and when y’smile. Even your name is pretty. Elizabeth is a pretty name, but Betty is prettier. Betty. Betty. I could say’t all night... Betty. Hmm... Betty. See?”

 

She had to hold in a laugh long enough to talk to him.

 

“I think you should go to sleep, Juggie.”

 

“If I gotta,” he replied in an almost childlike tone. “G’night Betty.”

 

“Good night, Jughead,” she replied, still hugging his head.

 

Betty held him to her chest, gently stroking her hand through his hair so that he hummed against her.

 

“Wait, one more thing,” Jughead said. “Just one more...”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Let’s say I took ya to a clubby bar place,” Jughead rambled. Betty knew what he meant, even though he was slurring some of his words. “If I took ya to one’f those places... would y’dance with me?”

 

“If you wanted to, sure.”

 

“You’d be a good dancer with that body ‘f yours. So, so sexy and pretty.” He hummed against her again before he continued. “I jus’ needed to ask th’question ‘cause I went t’one of those clubby places with Archie and Reggie tonight an’ I couldn’t help but wonder ‘f you woulda danced on me like they were all dancin’ on each other. An’ then I couldn’t help but imagine you there with me an’ I almost spit out m’drink.”

 

“Well why did you almost spit out your drink?”

 

“‘Cause you’d be sooooo friggin’ sexy pressed up against me. I can’t lie... it would turn me on, Betts, ‘cause you’re so beautiful and I really like you and our sex is _bomb,_ so I can’t help myself. But I’m tryin’ to. I’m tryna hold back with ya but I really really like you, Coop, and I can’t help myself, ‘specially when you want it too...”

 

“Okay,” Betty said. “I think it’s time for you to go to sleep.”

 

“But would ya?”

 

“Would I what?”

 

“Would ya dance with me like that?”

 

Betty blushed bright red, even in the dark room.

 

“Cause I’d really like that, and I think you’d like it too,” Jughead continued.

 

“I think I would, Juggie,” she admitted honestly. “Because I can’t resist you either.”

 

“That makes m’happy. ‘Kay. G’night, Betty.”

 

“Good night, Jughead.”

 

After that, Betty’s room was silent except for Jughead’s drunken and sleepy murmurs.

 

“Pretty name for a pretty woman.”

 

Betty knew it then that Jughead was too gone for her to come back from it.

 

**\---**

 

Jughead woke up the next day not remembering if the conversation with Betty had actually happened. What he did know, however, was that he had a headache. It was nowhere near a hangover, but his head hurt enough that it was annoying. He ran his fingers through his hair, then realized something.

 

He was alone in the bed.

 

He questioned it for a moment, then figured that Betty could have just gotten up without him. Maybe she made him more of that _amaaazing_ bacon. He didn’t know, but he didn’t jump to conclusions.

 

Jughead sat up, holding his palm to his forehead. There was no sign of Betty in the room, but when he looked over on the nightstand that was closest to him, there was a bottle of water sitting next to a bottle of aspirin with a note attached. Jughead swung his legs over the side of the bed and took the piece of paper in his hands to read it. It was in Betty’s perfect, beautiful cursive that she knew he liked from getting a glance at one of her handwritten manuscripts.

 

**_For the headache I’m sure you have._ **

 

**_PS: I really like you too. Like, a lot._ **

 

**_\- Betty_ **

 

“So the conversation happened...” Jughead mumbled to himself, slumping his head to place it in his palm, showing embarrassment. Shaking it off, Jughead placed the note back on the table, taking two aspirin pills out of the bottle, and opening the lid of the water bottle. He placed both pills in his mouth, then swallowed them with the help of the water. He was feeling very dehydrated, so he drank about half of the water in the bottle before finally getting up and exiting Betty’s room.

 

The light in the living room was a little hard for Jughead’s headache to adjust to, so he winced and muttered: “Ugh,” as he placed his palm on his forehead once more, willing the pain to go away.

 

“There’s our favorite loopy guy,” Jughead heard Toni say. He looked up and saw the pink-haired woman sitting next to Veronica. They were both eating breakfast. “We saved some bacon for you. It’s nothing like the way Betty makes it, but still.”

 

“Thanks, Toni,” Jughead said, not realizing what that statement had implied. Only when he grabbed a plate did he understand what was going on. He spun around to face the two women at the table. “What did you just say?”

 

“That the bacon is for you.”

 

“Not that, the other thing.”

 

“It’s nothing like the way Betty makes it?”

 

“Yes, that. Where’s Betty?”

 

Toni and Veronica looked at each other, then looked back at Jughead.

 

“And Cheryl isn’t here either, is she?”

 

“Shit, she didn’t tell you,” Veronica muttered.

 

“What didn’t she tell me? Where is she?” Jughead asked protectively. Betty wasn’t supposed to leave the penthouse without him, which was why it concerned him so much that Betty was gone.

 

“Get your plate, and then we’ll talk, Jughead,” Toni said. Jughead shrugged and sighed, grabbing some food to put on his plate, and hustling around to the dining table to sit next to Toni and across from Veronica.

 

“Please explain,” Jughead said simply. He just wanted to know where she was, and he wanted to make sure she was safe wherever she was.

 

“Betty and Cheryl went to Riverdale early this morning,” Veronica said.

 

“WHAT?!”

 

“Calm down, Jughead,” Toni added.

 

“That’s where her parents live!” Jughead hissed. “I’m going after them.” he started to get up when Toni grabbed him and threw him back into his seat.

 

“Shut the hell up and let us explain, hothead,” she fired at him, then looked at the woman on her other side. “You wanna start?”

 

“I know that you’ve read Betty’s memoir,” Veronica began. Jughead nodded silently. “How much do you know about Polly Cooper?”

 

“She’s Betty’s favorite relative. The only one in that Cooper household that actually cared about her when she was growing up. And then...”

 

“The accident,” Veronica finished for him. “The car had flipped and Polly was terribly injured, resulting in her death when the paramedics arrived on the scene.”

 

“That happened when Betty was eighteen, during her senior year,” Toni said. “It’s been a while since then, yes...” Toni paused for a while, then signaled for Veronica to continue in her place.

 

“Cheryl had an older brother,” Veronica said. “His name was Jason Blossom and he was two years older than herself. He went to Riverdale University, too. He was Polly’s college boyfriend. Cheryl and Polly had met a few times, and Cheryl knew that Polly was a nice, caring person just from the few interactions they had. Betty, on the other hand, didn’t know about Jason. No one in her family knew about Jason because Polly knew that her parents would disapprove of her having a boyfriend while she should have been focusing on her academics.”

 

“After Polly died in that terrible car wreck, Betty decided to go to Riverdale University in honor of her sister,” Toni continued. “There, she met Veronica, Cheryl, and I. When Veronica introduced Betty to Cheryl, Cheryl recognized Betty’s last name. They exchanged a few memories of Polly, and it was a very touching scene to witness. At that point, it hadn’t even been a full year since Polly’s death, but new friendships were being formed because of that loss.”

 

“Cheryl told Betty about how Jason was Polly’s boyfriend, and Cheryl arranged for Jason and Betty to meet,” Veronica added. “One day, Cheryl brought her brother to meet Betty, but Jason couldn’t see Betty, he only really saw Polly. They looked a lot alike: blonde hair, green eyes, beautiful smiles. They were both just beautiful people, but Jason could only see Betty’s resemblance to Polly when they met. It hurt him to see how much Betty looked like Polly.”

 

“Jason meeting Betty made him realize how much he missed Polly,” Toni said, picking up the conversation again. “It still hadn’t been close to a year yet... and...” Toni paused for a second before Veronica placed her hand on Toni’s. “Jason wrote a note, then ended up killing himself so that he could be with Polly.”

 

“Oh my god,” Jughead muttered, pushing away the plate with his breakfast on it.

 

“Betty isn’t the only one around here with a bad past. Cheryl had her brother, Veronica turned her dad clean when she was seriously young, and my family was involved with gangs for as long as I could remember,” Toni said. “But Cheryl and Betty were able to bond over these two losses, and it made their relationship much stronger.”

 

“But why are they in Riverdale?” Jughead asked.

 

“Today...” Veronica began, “Is the five year anniversary of Polly’s death.”

 

**\---**

 

Riverdale was about thirty minutes North of New York City, but that made spring even colder in that area. It had actually snowed the night before, Cheryl and Betty realized, as they were driving into town and past the “Town with Pep!” sign. Keeping with tradition, Betty and Cheryl had dressed in all black, bundled in their black coats for colder weather.

 

Two bouquets of flowers sat on the backseat as Betty glanced back at them from the passenger seat, a box of tissues back there too, along with Hot Dog asleep on the backseat. Betty had picked up a bouquet of lilies (her and Polly’s favorite) for Polly, and Cheryl chose one with daisies for Jason. She couldn’t help but think that everything had been the same as the past four years they had visited Polly and Jason’s graves.

 

At the same time, it was different. This time, there was a person in her life that didn’t know where she was or what she was doing.

 

Betty hadn’t wanted to leave Jughead alone in her bed and with Toni and Veronica in the penthouse, but she didn’t have much of a choice. She didn't have much of a choice in that because she didn’t think that Jughead was ready to be brought into something like this. Maybe he was, but Betty just thought it was a little too early to be taking him to Polly’s grave.

 

Facing forward once more, Betty thought back to the first time she and Cheryl had arranged to leave their dorm before Toni and Veronica woke up. They dressed silently, then got in Cheryl’s car, stopping by an arranger’s shop for a bouquet of flowers each. They walked hand-in-hand to Jason’s grave first before heading to Polly’s.

 

When they got to her sister’s gravestone, Betty saw that there had already been several arrangements placed against Polly’s grave. She immediately knew it was the work of her mother because she never got personalized arrangements. Alice would only ever settle to give people the flowers she and Hal liked. She’d seen the two identical arrangements before: they were often gifted to other people and looked the exact same as she remembered them.

 

“Betty?” Cheryl had asked when Betty tensed next to her.

 

“We need to throw these away,” Betty had answered through gritted teeth, motioning towards the two bouquets on the ground. “My parents put them here.”

 

Simple as that, Cheryl and Betty placed their bouquet of lilies for Polly on the grave and proceeded to trash the other two that came from the Cooper parents.

 

That day had been emotional for both of them, but through that, they became even better friends, and throwing away Hal and Alice’s flowers had become a tradition.

 

“Betty?” Cheryl asked now, placing her hand on the blonde’s knee as she kept her eyes on the road. The ginger successfully pulled Betty out of her headspace. “You good?”

 

“Yeah... as good as I can be, Cher,” Betty answered, twirling her blonde ponytail in her hand for a moment.

 

“Good, cause I can’t _wait_ to throw away whatever drab concoction of flowers your parents have come up with this year,” Cheryl joked, causing Betty to laugh. There was a slight pause before she changed the subject. “How’s Jughead?”

 

“How about we _not_ fail the Bechdel Test today?” Betty replied.

 

“B, I’m genuinely asking how he is for _your_ sake, Bechdel Test be damned.”

 

“He’s adorable when he’s intoxicated,” Betty said. “I had to wash and dry his hair for him last night.”

 

“So you’re showering together now?” Cheryl asked, teasing.

 

“It was a one time thing...” Betty said. “For now, at least... but he’s a total sap for me after he drinks enough, I’ve come to find out.”

 

“How so?”

 

“He went on a tangent about how pretty he thought I was,” Betty giggled. “And how he wanted to take me to a nightclub so I could go dance with him.”

 

“That’s sweet. They say that you’re more likely tell the truth about your feelings when you’re drunk,” Cheryl added. “The man’s whipped. Don’t even try to argue, B.”

 

“I agree, actually. He’s brave, but he’s kind and gentle.”

 

“He’s soft, you mean,” Cheryl said.

 

“Well, he _did_ fall asleep while I hugged his head to my chest.”

 

“Soft. Jughead Jones is soft,” Cheryl added. Betty chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Since I caught you two last week, I gotta ask...”

 

“Please don’t,” Betty said.

 

“I am one of your three best friends. I think you _need_ to tell me.” Betty laughed at that too. “So... How is he in bed?”

 

“We’re really going there?”

 

“We’re really going there. Spill, Bettykins.”

 

“He’s amazing,” she admitted finally. “It was everything I could have wished for with my first time.”

 

“Have you done it since then?”

 

“Now _that_ is not your business.”

 

“Oh my god, you have!”

 

“Cheryl, seriously.”

 

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop. But only because we’re here.”

 

“Not a word of this conversation goes anywhere,” Betty said, stepping out of the car and opening the back door for Hot Dog to get out. Betty and Cheryl grabbed the bouquets out of the back seat and Cheryl took a few tissues to stuff in her coat pocket. As they walked away, Cheryl locked the car.

 

Looking around the Riverdale Cemetery that was covered in a thin sheet of snow, Betty noted all of the grey headstones in the ground. As they walked, Betty’s eyes were glued to the ground, watching her feet, Hot Dog’s feet, and Cheryl’s red heels stepping through the snow. When she least expected it, Cheryl linked her free arm through Betty’s that held the lilies. The blonde looked up at her, and they both smiled weakly at each other as they continued walking in the direction that they knew to be the right one.

 

Betty remembered a time after her parents had caused her an anxiety attack just after the sun had gone down, about a month after Polly’s death. Tears in her eyes and the need to get away in her heart, Betty had navigated her way from Elm Street to the cemetery in the dark, finding Polly’s headstone. She remembered sitting against the cold stone that had her sister’s name engraved in it for an hour or two before finding her way to Chuck Clayton’s house: her childhood friend who let her in, gave her hot chocolate and a blanket, and let her stay the night.

 

Riverdale wasn’t all bad, in Betty’s opinion. It was a homey, small town: beautiful in the spring and fall, not much to do in the summer, and nothing to do in the winter but hope that a snowstorm didn’t knock your power out. The people were kind: her teachers, the few friends her parents let her have, and her neighbors. The only terrible people in Riverdale were her parents. It had been those two people that had driven her away from everything she once called home, everything she ever knew as home.

 

It was their fault that they had seared into her brain the idea that she was responsible for Polly’s death. She was told over and over again, as her parents hurt her, that she was at fault for their _perfect_ child’s car wreck.

 

“You did this to her!” Her mom would scream after slapping her. “Admit it!”

 

 _I did that to her,_ Betty’s mind came to believe.

 

 _This is my fault,_ her tears screamed, hot and wet against her face.

 

 _But you didn’t actually,_ a glimmer of hope in her heart told her.

 

“It’s my fault,” she would admit weakly. “I’m the reason she’s dead.”

 

The worst part was that Betty actually believed it, too. That was until she met Veronica, Toni, and Cheryl. There were many nights where Betty would feel guilty, but the other three would huddle around her as they assured her it wasn’t her fault.

 

“You didn’t do that to your sister, B,” Veronica would say.

 

“But I was the one that caused her to drive away!”

 

“You didn’t crash into her, Bettykins,” Cheryl would add.

 

Toni, frustrated because Betty’s parents had obviously brainwashed her into believing such a terrible lie, would take the blonde’s face in her hands and bring their eyes even with each other.

 

“Betty Cooper,” she had addressed her once, wiping her tears away. “Were you the drunk driver that hit Polly?”

 

“No.”

 

“That’s right. You didn’t hit Polly’s car with your own. It’s so terrible that there are people out there that would drink and drive at the same time, but that man just so happened to come across Polly after you had argued,” Toni had stated. “Just because your parents told you it’s your fault doesn’t mean they’re right. They’re definitely not right in this case. You would never bring destruction on a human being purposefully. And you didn’t do it to Polly. I think she wouldn’t want you thinking it’s your fault. What else would she rather you do?”

 

“She always wanted me to get emancipated,” Betty had replied weakly, tears threatening to spill again.

 

“Exactly. Because your parents are monsters and because they made you believe that it’s your fault when it’s not. It’s not your fault, Betty. You’re safe to be yourself here, and for us to tell you that you couldn’t control what happened to Polly. It’s not your fault. I don’t want to have to tell you again.”

 

“It’s not my fault,” Betty repeated in a whisper, looking into Toni’s eyes as their faces were held close together.

 

“You’re right,” Toni had replied. “It was simply beyond your control.”

 

“I don’t blame anyone,” Cheryl said, pulling Betty out of her memories. She looked at the woman next to her, arms still linked. They were standing in front of Jason’s grave. “Your sister was a good, kind person that wanted the best for everyone, including you and my brother. Jason loved her so much because of her love. She loved everyone except your parents. Jason was taken by her huge heart. But it was his choice to end his own life, and I can’t blame anyone for that.”

 

Betty stayed quiet as Cheryl slipped her arm out of Betty’s to lay the bouquet of daisies at Jason’s grave. She watched silently as Cheryl whispered something, then kissed the gravestone engraved with “JASON CLAUDIUS BLOSSOM,” leaving a bright red lipstick mark. Even when Cheryl came back to Betty to simply stand in front of the grave, it seemed that her red-painted lips hadn’t been messed with at all. They stood together silently in the early morning snow, leaning against each other and locking arms again as Cheryl pulled out a tissue to dry her eyes with.

 

They let the sounds of a few cars passing by fill their ears, absorbing the silence contained in a graveyard. Eventually, Cheryl was the one to shatter the quiet.

 

“Let’s go see Pol, Betty,” she suggested. Betty only nodded and allowed herself to be led by the fierce ginger at her side. They made the trained walk, four columns right, one row up. It was under a large, tall tree, so there wasn’t a lot of snow around it. When they approached, they saw no bouquets in front of Polly’s grave, so they carried on.

 

“PAULINE “POLLY” COOPER,” the tombstone read. When they were standing in front of it, Cheryl nudged Betty forward gently and she took the hint. She handed Hot Dog’s leash to Cheryl before stepping forward and kneeling to the ground to lay the lilies in front of the headstone. She sat back on her heels, placing her hand on the corner of the stone. She traced her fingers over the letters as she let out a solitary sob.

 

“I’m so sorry, Pol,” Betty whispered. “I’m so sorry that my words made you leave the house. I didn’t want you getting hurt, but that’s exactly what happened...”

 

“I should have supported your decision to transfer schools so that you could get further away from mom and dad, but I didn’t, and I’m sorry... I... I moved to New York City, just like I would have if I’d gone to NYU... I got out, Pol, and I’m only back because of you. Because I love you... and I wanted to let you know that I published the book. I did it, just like I said I would...”

 

Betty had to wipe her eyes with the sleeve of her coat before she could continue. Cheryl followed Betty onto the ground, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as Hot Dog went to her other side. Betty was handed a tissue, and used that instead of her sleeve.

 

“The whole world will know about what we went through, and I hope our story can help someone else in our situation...” With a trembling lip, Betty kept going. “I found a guy... and he really cares about me, and he’s helping me with the problems I have with mom and dad... and I think you’d like him, Pol. He’s nice and sweet, but he’s also protective of me and he helps to keep my demons away... I know you’d just love him... and he loves our book and he admires us for dealing with mom and dad for so long...”

 

Betty had to stop so she could put her face in her hands and cry as Cheryl rubbed her back encouragingly. After she composed herself a little more, Betty dried her eyes on the tissue in her hand, and Hot Dog nuzzled under her arm, causing her to wrap her arm around the sheepdog.

 

“I know you always wanted a dog, Polly... this is Hot Dog, and he helps me with my anxiety and with the nightmares I have from mom and dad’s abuse... I’m still trying to get a restraining order on them, even though I was denied last time. I’m not going to stop until it goes through. I’m doing it for both of us, Polly. We both deserve our lives away from them... and, well... you’re still pretty far away, but you’re also here, so I don’t know if that’s far or not, but I’m not going to stop until they’re gone for good... I’ll listen this time. I’ll get emancipated from them forever,” Betty sobbed. “I’ll sever the tie for good... Okay? I’ll do it for you... for us... And once the restraining order goes through, I’m going to sue them for all that they’re worth. Every single penny and nickel...”

 

“You’re no longer here to protect me from them, so I’ll protect your memory by defending myself, by fighting against them... and standing up for myself...”  

 

She bawled through another _I love you, Pol_ as she leaned on Cheryl for support.

 

It had been five years, but Betty was still as broken about Polly’s death as she had been when she heard Polly stop breathing. Maybe that made it even more traumatic for her, but she didn’t know what else it could have been. Polly’s death was like a wine stain, something that seemed like it would never be remedied, something that would never go away. The years hadn’t made it any easier on Betty, but any time she could get through talking about her sister without bursting into tears was registered as progress.

 

“It’s okay, Betty,” Cheryl encouraged, holding the blonde to her shoulder. “Let it out, girl.”

 

She held to her friend tighter before she was able to calm herself down enough to pull away. Cheryl used a clean tissue to wipe Betty’s eyes, then they both mustered the strength to get off of the patch of green grass. They stood up together, wrapped their arms around each other’s waists, and stood side by side in front of Polly’s tombstone.

 

Betty was still blinking away tears as she stood between Cheryl and Hot Dog, who was seated at her feet. They did the same as they did at Jason’s grave: standing to absorb the calming silence that resonated within the quiet, small town.

 

The peace embalmed the air of the cemetery, only interrupted by a sensation at Betty’s calf. She looked down to see Hot Dog trying to gain her attention.

 

“What is it, boy?” Betty asked. He looked up at her and whined, then stared at something behind her.

 

The blonde dropped Cheryl’s arm, now getting the ginger’s attention, and turning around.

 

She saw what had Hot Dog so unnerved.

 

And this time, she didn’t let herself waver.

 

**\---**

 

“Can you go any faster?” Jughead asked from the backseat again.

 

“If you ask that question _one more goddamn time--”_ Toni began angrily, getting cut off by Veronica.

 

“We’re almost there. Be patient,” she said as they pulled past the iconic “Town with Pep” sign.

 

Toni sped up when they pulled in within the town limits, making sharp turns smoothly, even though they were moving faster than Sonic the Hedgehog himself. Finally, she nailed her foot on the brake, the tires squealing in protest as they came to a stop.

 

“Was _that_ fast enough for you, Jones?” Toni sassed, whipping around to face him. Jughead’s eyes were wide, but he shook it off when he realized she was teasing him.

 

“Just perfect,” he said, unlocking his door and stepping out onto the sidewalk. He turned and saw an older, but well kept, station wagon parked behind Cheryl’s cherry red convertible with the roof up. He shrugged it off, but he wished he hadn’t when Toni and Veronica stepped out of their car.

 

“Shit,” Veronica muttered from the other side, shutting the passenger door loudly.

 

“What?” Jughead asked.

 

“Turn around,” Toni said. He did as he was told, spinning 180 degrees to see the two figures that were obviously Cheryl and Betty, and then he saw two more familiar people having a heated conversation.

 

 _Her parents,_ his mind screamed out to him. Jughead could see the greying blonde hair on both of the older adults’ heads. Acting on instinct after seeing Betty arguing with them, Jughead marched through the thin sheet of snow towards the group of four.

 

Betty’s parents were holding a bouquet of flowers each as Betty stood her ground, Hot Dog next to her and Cheryl standing on the sideline. He could hear parts of the conversation as he approached.

 

“You have some nerve coming back here, Elizabeth,” Alice said to Betty.

 

“You came to where I was, _mother,”_ Betty said coldly. “I can go where I want. I’m an adult. I came to see my sister, not you.”

 

“After you caused her death? You have the audacity to come to her grave?” Hal butted in.

 

“It’s not my fault,” Betty said sternly.

 

“She wouldn’t be dead if _you_ hadn’t said anything to her!” Alice replied.

 

“She wouldn’t be dead if you two weren’t _awful human beings!”_

 

“You take that back, young lady,” her father said.

 

“No. I won’t.”

 

That’s when Alice passed her bouquet to her husband and stepped forward towards her daughter to grab her. Betty braced for impact, but Hot Dog jumped up at Alice and barked loudly, startling her. She stumbled back, but looked even more enraged.

 

Jughead was going to run to protect Betty, but Cheryl held her hand up, signaling him to let Betty fight her own battle.

 

 _Why would Cheryl ever do that?_ Jughead asked himself. Betty was clearly about to be hurt by her mother, but he trusted Cheryl and her intentions, so Jughead kept his distance.

 

When Alice approached Betty again, Hot Dog was caught off guard because of how quickly she was moving. Alice was able to swoop in and slap Betty across the face. She stumbled back, holding her cheek. Hot Dog jumped at Alice again, but the woman stepped back and out of his reach.

 

Jughead looked to Cheryl once more, who motioned for him to step into the ring. He sprinted over to Betty, pulling her hand away from her face to see the red splotch on the side of her face. A few unspoken tears were rolling down her face and her eyes were clenched shut, refusing to look at anything.

 

Jughead grew angry, letting go of Betty and placing himself in front of her to face her parents.

 

“You have _no right!”_ Jughead exclaimed, pointing a stern finger at them.

 

“And who the hell are you, might I ask?” Alice interrupted.

 

“The person you do _not_ want to mess with,” he replied. “Get the hell away from her before I call the sheriff!”

 

“Why would the sheriff believe you? You’re not from Riverdale,” Hal interjected.

 

“The _county sheriff,_ not the town sheriff,” he threatened. “We could take this up a notch if you’d like, or you can stay the hell away. Your choice.”

 

Hal and Alice rolled their eyes and took the coward’s way out, walking to their station wagon, getting in, and driving off. Jughead shielded Betty from their sight until they were gone. When he was about to turn back to her, he felt two familiar arms snake around his torso, holding him against someone. He knew it was Betty as she buried her face in his back.

 

Jughead pulled her arms away, only to turn around and hug her properly, replacing her hands around his back. He pulled her head into his chest, laying a kiss to the top of her hair as she cried silently into his chest. Jughead heard Toni and Veronica moving behind them as quick as they could.

 

“Oh my god,” Toni panted when she got over there. Jughead didn’t say a word and Betty didn’t release herself from Jughead’s hold. Instead of saying anything, Jughead looked up at Cheryl angrily.

 

“Jughead...” Veronica said, noticing his searing glare. “Are you okay?”

 

“Why did you stop me, Cheryl?” He asked through gritted teeth.

 

“That’s my fault,” Toni answered, stepping forward.

 

“Why would you let her mother do such a thing?” Jughead glared at her. Toni simply pulled out her phone and navigated through it until it was facing Jughead.

 

It was a video of Alice hitting Betty in the face after they had argued, and then Jughead running to protect her. Almost as soon as it had started, it was over, and Toni was placing her phone in her pocket once more.

 

“We have evidence now. _Physical evidence_ against her parents,” Toni said. “She can’t be denied a restraining order now,” she added in a whisper. Cheryl nodded and added:

 

“I saw her tell me not to let you step in.”

 

“You let her get hurt for evidence?!”

 

“Jughead, think about what we would have to prove here!” Veronica exclaimed. “That Alice and Harold Cooper are abusive _monsters!_ We didn’t count on them being here, but we were all here and we now have something we can show to a judge that proves their guilt.”

 

Betty suddenly pulled her face out of Jughead’s chest.

 

“Y-You got it on video?” she asked, still resting the side of her face against Jughead’s warm body. Veronica nodded. “That’s some good chance right there,” she added, smiling weakly and moving a hand to push a stray tear off of her cheek. “Her hand was cold as ever.”

 

Jughead brought his hand up and around her shoulders, pulling her closer to himself.

 

“I know, B,” Veronica replied. “Let’s go home. I’ll order Pop’s to go and we can eat it at the Pembrooke.”

 

“That sounds like a good idea, Ronnie,” Toni said, lacing her arm around her girlfriend’s waist. She and Cheryl started towards the ginger’s convertible as Toni tossed the keys of their other car to Veronica. After catching them in one hand, she looked at Jughead and Betty, who hadn’t let go.

 

“You two look like you need a minute. I’ll go warm up the car,” she said, walking away after taking Hot Dog’s leash from Betty’s hand.

 

Betty only then pulled out of Jughead’s grip to look in his eyes.

 

“I know you’re gonna say that you feel bad because I’m hurt and there was something you could do, but didn’t,” she said immediately. “I’m okay, really. In comparison to some of the other things, this is nothing... but the fact that we got it on video is worth everything to me.”

 

“There’s going to be a giant bruise on your face because of what she did to you,” he whispered, gently holding her chin to angle her face towards him so he could see the forming welt on her face.

 

“I’d rather have a bruise now and my parents with a restraining order, or even better, in jail than no bruise,” Betty said. “I get it if you feel guilty, but there’s less trouble later if we can get this done now.”

 

“I just hate seeing you hurt,” he replied softly. “You deserve to be safe, after everything you’ve been through.”

 

“That slap was a step towards safety only because we have evidence that my parents are abusive,” she replied. “And I won’t ever make you sit on the sideline again, Jug,” she promised, holding both his hands in hers. “Unless we have a good chance of finally getting a video of Malachi, then I’ll have to stop you again...” she smiled at her joke and laughed a little, causing Jughead to smile too. “Does that sound like a good deal?”

 

“Yes,” Jughead replied. “As long as I get to slug your dad one day for all he’s done to you.”

 

“I can’t promise anything,” she joked. “But feel free to the next time we might come across him.”

 

“I will,” he said, smiling and pulling on her hands so she stumbled slightly towards him. Jughead leaned down and crashed his lips to Betty’s and wrapped his arms around his waist.

 

Caught off guard at first, Betty was pushed back ever so slightly, but then she wrapped her arms around the back of Jughead’s neck. She raised herself onto her toes as they kissed softly.

 

Betty pulled away after a moment by lowering herself so she was standing flat-footed in the grass. She and Jughead were both smiling and holding onto each other when Betty suddenly remembered where they were. She glanced behind her at Polly’s grave, then looked back at Jughead.

 

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” she whispered. Jughead nodded and let Betty slip out of his arms just to lean into his side with an arm around his back. He looked down at her as she pulled out a folded up picture from her pocket and held it up for him to see.

 

“This is Polly and I in my sophomore year of high school,” she said, handing him the picture.

 

It was actually a picture of Betty, Polly, and her parents, but Betty had taken white out to her mom and dad, who had been standing on either side of their children. Jughead held Betty a little closer to him as he looked at the two teenagers with their arms around each other and smiling brightly.

 

He understood what Veronica meant when she said that they looked alike. The loose curly hair, green eyes, and their smiles were a constant between them. Jughead could tell the smile was genuine only because Betty had been standing with her sister, but he could also see the pain behind her eyes as the family of four posed together. They were dressed in simple yet mesmerizing pastel dresses with sweaters over their shoulders. The love between sisters was evident and beautiful.

 

“I can tell that you loved her,” he said quietly, bringing the photo down to his side and setting his eyes on the gravestone. You still love her, and that’s admirable, but you can tell me anything, Betty.” He paused, letting it sink in. “If you didn’t want me to come with you to see Polly today, that’s fine. It’s your choice... but you could have let me know that you weren’t going to be with me when I woke up this morning.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know how to start the conversation.”

 

“That’s okay,” he replied. “I’m glad I’m here with you now.”

 

Jughead could feel her smile and relax under his arm.

 

“She’s better off where she is,” Betty whispered sadly. “But I was better off when she was here... and maybe that sounds selfish, but that’s how I feel about it.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” he replied. “It’s kinda true, too. You wouldn’t have so many problems if she were here, but anyone is better off when they’re away from Alice and Hal Cooper.” Betty nodded in agreement.

 

“I told her about you,” she said quietly. “And about Hot Dog and _Behind Closed Doors...”_

 

He stood there silently.

 

“Polly was always the one person that I went to about everything. She was my best friend, even if she had more friends than I did... She protected me as much as she could, as often as she could. And I’m proud to call her my sister, even if I’m not proud to call Alice and Harold Cooper our parents.” She stopped and turned to him.

 

“You wanna get out of here?” she asked.

 

“I think that’s best, Betts,” he replied as they took a final glance at Polly’s final resting place, then walked side by side to the car, seeing Hot Dog sticking his head out the window and waiting for them.

 

Jughead noticed that Betty hadn’t cried through her words when she had spoken to him... but he didn’t bring that up.

 

**\---**

 

The rest of the day had a somber tone to it, but Jughead stayed by Betty’s side, along with the rest of the house. They played another round of Monopoly because Cheryl and Toni complained that Betty forfeited near the last leg of the game, and “I want to see Ronnie _lose,_ Betty!”

 

They all sat down together to play, and Jughead quickly found out that Monopoly was the house’s competitive sport. That was to say that Jughead was out first, having to mortgage all of his properties early in the game. The girls had a strategy, though it was evident that Betty and Veronica’s were the strongest.

 

Cheryl and Toni were once again knocked bankrupt earlier than Betty and Veronica. Jughead was also somewhat shocked to see that Cheryl made popcorn soon after getting out, sharing with Toni and Jughead as they watched.

 

“It gets juicy, Jughead,” Toni assured him.

 

She was right.

 

As Betty continued to make smart, informed moves, it was evident that Veronica’s account was depleting and fast. Veronica was the first to mortgage a property after Toni and Cheryl had gone bankrupt, while Betty acquired more and more of the fake currency.

 

Eventually, Veronica was forced to claim bankruptcy, and Toni and Cheryl went wild. The couple made a celebratory meal for Betty breaking Veronica’s win streak, even though Betty’s best friend lost in good spirits. The rest of the night was filled with laughter and talking, as well as a movie going later into the night than usual. Jughead and Betty went to bed together after their respective showers, Hot Dog laying at their feet.

 

The next week came and went, except for the next Saturday, when Betty’s interview with Midge Klump and Ethel Muggs was to be broadcast live on their show. The whole penthouse was up early and dressed to go down to the studio. Jughead was pulled out of bed by Cheryl and thrown out of Betty’s room so that the stylist could do her job. He didn’t see her again until Cheryl was done with her.

 

Jughead thought that Betty was one of the most beautiful things he had seen when she emerged. She was wearing a lavender sleeveless dress that ended just above her knees. The skirt was flared, creating a flowing skirt effect. Jughead nearly drooled over the sight of her long, creamy legs in the silver heels she wore and her hair down in loose waves. She was wearing the light pink lipstick she knew he loved to kiss off of her lips, but didn’t mind teasing him for too long (besides, he looked handsome as _hell_ in that luxury black suit, so it was only fair).

 

They all rode to the studio like they did the last time: Archie driving one car with Veronica, Betty, Jughead, and Hot Dog, while Reggie drove the other with Cheryl and Toni. The crowd outside the studio was massive, but Betty was escorted inside, feeling secure with Jughead’s watchful eyes on her at all times. She even felt good walking out as the live cameras pointed on her, Hot Dog at her side the whole time.

 

“Thank you for joining us again, Elizabeth. We really appreciate it,” Midge told her.

 

“I’m very happy to be here, and we’re _live_ this time, so it’s even more exciting,” she replied as she sensed Hot Dog sit at attention, watching the crowd.

 

“Well I can’t speak for our viewers, but Midge and I are _very_ excited for you because today marks six consecutive months of your memoir, _Behind Closed Doors: What Being a Valedictorian is Actually Like,_ being a bestselling title. Congratulations!” Ethel said. The studio audience cheered for her, and Betty waved and smiled at them.

 

“Thank you, thank you. It’s seriously amazing. I can’t even describe how happy I am about it,” she said joyfully. Betty felt Hot Dog back up against her leg, but didn’t think much of it until something within her flicked a switch, triggering her anxiety to flare ever so slightly.

 

Betty scanned the crowd nervously. She saw a few people with midnight black hair, but didn’t see that fated face she hated. Betty was able to keep her smile on her face as she turned her attention back to the two hosts after taking a quick glance at her friends backstage. Jughead had been standing there, looking out at the crowd protectively, but gave a nod when she had glanced back.

 

The interview itself hadn’t been too interesting: just the normal topics. Her parents, the expectations, the differences between her life in college and the one she had at home, and Polly.

 

“You really loved her,” Ethel said.

 

“Yes. Of course. She was my sister.”

 

“This question is a little deeper, so if you don’t want to answer, that’s okay,” Midge began and Betty nodded. “Has her loss affected your ability to love?”

 

“Not necessarily--”

 

“That’s a lie!” one of the audience members interjected, standing up. Hot Dog rose from where he was, standing attentively in front of Betty. The blonde looked out towards the crowd and realized who it was with a gasp. The audience murmured to themselves as they saw the man standing up and beginning to saunter towards the stage.

 

Betty froze.

 

“M-Malachi,” she muttered under her breath.

 

“She’s incapable of love!”

 

“N-No,” she protested weakly, but he kept walking forward.

 

“She’s a tease! A _prude!”_ Malachi yelled.

 

“I-I...” Hot Dog started growling in his direction as Jughead slowly emerged from backstage, muttering quietly into his earpiece frantically.

 

“Elizabeth Cooper is nothing but a loveless, weak, lonely bitch!” he growled, making a running jump onto the stage.

 

The crowd gasped, pointed, and exclaimed when Malachi did this. Betty winced and closed her eyes as Hot Dog tried to create a barrier between them.

 

All Betty felt was a thud on the floor, and people fighting against each other. A ringing began in her ears, blocking out all sound. Her fingers curled into her palms and she felt the stinging sensation taking over in her hands... that was until a warmer, more captivating feeling touched her hands. Betty opened her eyes, letting the warm feeling wash over her.

 

Jughead was holding the tops of her hands, trying to uncurl her fingers. Betty let him as he still tried to get her attention, but she couldn’t hear him through the ringing and heartbeat in her ears. They looked into each other’s eyes and Jughead’s voice was able to cut through the incessant ringing.

 

“Betty,” he whispered. “I need to get you out of here. Come with me, okay?” She nodded and allowed him to help her stand up. He blocked the view of the audience and of Archie and Reggie holding Malachi down to the stage as he led her and Hot Dog backstage. He left her in the arms of Veronica and under the watch of her literary team.

 

Toni took Hot Dog’s leash from Betty’s hand as the blonde hugged her best friend and buried her face into Veronica’s shoulder. Jughead stood in front of the four women attentively, ready to protect them if Malachi were to get loose. He watched as Reggie and Archie held him to the ground, but soon transferred him into the arms of security.

 

**\---**

 

Betty didn’t talk the whole ride home.

 

After Ethel and Midge had apologized profusely (to Toni, who accepted the apology on behalf of Betty because the blonde hadn’t let go of Veronica), the group of seven left the studio immediately. Veronica had gotten Betty to release her hold and got her to hold onto Jughead with one hand and Hot Dog’s leash with the other. Her grip was one of iron on Jughead’s suit jacket sleeve as he led her through and out of the studio, then into the car.

 

Jughead had opened Betty’s door for her to get into the backseat, but she wouldn’t release her grip on him.

 

“Betty... It’s okay. I’m right here, but I need you and Hot Dog to get in. I’ll run around to the other side, but I need you to trust me when I say let go, okay?”

 

She didn’t respond, so he slowly pried her fingers away from his jacket, then ushered her into her seat, shutting the door behind her. Jughead kept with his promise and ran around to his side, jumping in and sliding over so that Betty could hold onto him again.

 

The blonde immediately slipped her arm under his and gripped his hand tightly, entwining their fingers. She laid her head on his shoulder as if she were relaxed, but Jughead could feel the tension in her body as Archie started driving back towards the Pembrooke.

 

Betty didn’t talk when they got home.

 

She didn’t talk after they’d been home for an hour. Or two. Or three.

 

She was so shaken by Malachi’s surprise visit that she was traumatized.

 

Jughead had taken Betty to her room immediately after they got home. She had relaxed enough to allow herself to nod or shake her head in order to communicate.

 

Betty allowed Jughead to help her change out of the dress and heels and help her get comfortable in bed. A little later, She let Jughead sit behind her, his legs spread as she sat between them and laid back against his chest, Hot Dog curled at their feet. He had queued up Netflix on her laptop and allowed her to choose a movie for them to watch together.

 

Jughead took care to not bring up the topic of anything that had already happened that day. He did anything _but_ that. When he felt the tension in her shoulders, he gently massaged it away with her silent permission. When he could tell she was feeling distant, Jughead wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his head on her shoulder and kissing her cheek. When he could see that she was finally falling asleep after being almost frozen for so long, Jughead hugged around her torso and leaned back against the headboard, letting her use his entire chest as a pillow.

 

Surprisingly, Betty slept for a good portion of the rest of the day. It seemed like dreamless sleep, but nevertheless, she slept. Betty slept in one-hour intervals, waking up for thirty minutes at a time so she could go to the bathroom, spend time silently with Jughead, or continue the movie they were watching.

 

Most of the time when Betty would wake up, her first instinct was to reach up to Jughead’s face and kiss him soundly. She let her lips communicate what she couldn’t make her words do. Even though she was a writer, she couldn’t find a way to say how thankful she was for him being there and protecting her, or how scared and anxious she had been when Malachi had started slandering her. She instead distracted herself with how she felt about Jughead, letting her mouth do something else besides forming words.

 

Around six o’clock in the evening, Betty had woken up from sleeping for about forty five minutes to look at Jughead, who had been stroking her shoulder. The blonde smiled up at him before reaching up to pull herself towards him, kissing him with everything she had. She took his breath away with the passion that she brought into it, he thought as he placed his hands on her hips, spreading his fingers to take as much of her into his hands as possible. She hummed into his mouth for only a second before pulling away to look at him.

 

“Juggie,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

 

“You don’t need to thank me. I don’t mind doing this.”

 

“No. I do,” she replied, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “You’re my stability when it feels like I’m sinking. Now that I’ve got you, I don’t know what I can do without you, Jug.” She left a heartfelt kiss on his cheek. When she released, she laid her head on his shoulder, facing his neck. He rested his head against hers, hitching up her T-shirt ever so slightly to draw swirls on the soft skin of her side.

 

Even though she asked him to go get her food not five seconds later, this was the moment that Jughead knew how he really felt about Betty Cooper.

 

And let’s just say he didn’t just _like_ her anymore.

 

**\---**

 

Between the time that Betty had dinner and went to sleep that night, she and Jughead watched a movie and she got a text from Veronica. Jughead has paused their movie as Betty checked her messages. She clicked on Veronica’s name and there was a video there. Jughead and Betty looked at each other curiously before Betty played it.

 

The video was a newsreel. A _very current_ newsreel. It contained the video of Jughead tackling Malachi on the Midge and Ethel Show, as well as an announcer speaking about how the incident was on live TV, how it was during Betty’s interview, and he finally said that Malachi was being held overnight at one of the NYPD police stations.

 

“He deserves more than overnight,” Betty muttered under her breath after the video ended.

 

“We’ll find a way to get him behind bars for good, Betts,” Jughead whispered. “I promise, we’ll do it somehow.”

 

He watched as Betty put her phone and laptop on her bed, then turned to look at him. Before he knew it, Betty was in his lap, kissing him soundly and taking his breath away.

 

“Distract me, Jug,” she pleaded. “I want you,” she continued, pulling him closer by his shirt that was now balled in her hands. “Please.”

 

She didn’t have to ask twice. And she didn’t have to repeat her instructions.

 

 _Distract her?_ Distract her, he did. Several times in one go, too. With his mouth, with his fingers, with himself inside of her, he distracted her plenty. He peppered her face with kisses as they fell together, even though they were both so exhausted and could barely find the strength to move on their own.

 

Jughead thought Betty had never looked more beautiful than she did then, laying under him, her face displaying that she was feeling the waves of pleasure take over her body. The light shining through the window had showed the scars on Betty’s body and she showed how self conscious she was about them. When she had tried to hide herself from him, Jughead removed her arms from across her body and kissed every scar he could see.

 

After letting themselves rest for a minute, they took a shower together, washing each other tenderly, then got dressed, and fell asleep together, Hot Dog at their feet.

 

Jughead was awake again nearly three hours later.

 

He wasn’t sure what it was at first, but he realized then that Betty was no longer beside him. When he reached for her, he touched something fluffy. Jughead eyes flashed open immediately and saw his hand on Hot Dog’s back, though the sheepdog wasn’t even looking at him.

 

Hot Dog was separating Betty and Jughead at the hip (quite literally). He had sandwiched himself between them, creating a fluffy barrier. He was staring at the blonde on the other side.

 

Betty’s eyebrows were scrunched into a troubled expression and she mumbled something incomprehensible before rolling to her other side. Jughead watched her and saw that she turned over again, still mumbling. Hot Dog looked from Betty to him, then back to Betty when he shifted to watch Betty more closely.

 

 _She’s having a bad dream,_ he thought immediately. His first instinct was to reach over to her, but something stopped him.

 

Hot Dog _growled._ At _him._

 

The sheepdog was looking at him when Jughead retracted his hand. He was shocked. The fact that Hot Dog thought that he would harm Betty was ludicrous.

 

“I’m not going to hurt her,” Jughead insisted, whispering. Still looking at him, the sheepdog growled again. “I won’t hurt Betty, Hot Dog.”

 

Jughead began to reach over again, but Hot Dog stood up and barked at him. The shocking noise made Jughead’s hand fall onto Betty’s shoulder.

 

Before he knew it, Betty had climbed onto him in her sleep, pinning him roughly to the mattress.

 

Jughead has never feared for his life more than he did now, the blonde aggressively hovering over him, eyes still closed. He had evidently triggered her in her sleep, which was what Hot Dog had been warning him _not_ to do.

 

“Betty! Betty, it’s me!” He yelled, but it was no use. She raised her hand and punched Jughead square in the nose. He heard a large snap, felt pain shoot through his face.

 

“FUCK!” He yelled.

 

Suddenly, the pressure on him released and his hand came up to cover his nose.

 

He rolled on his side towards the edge of the bed and opened his eyes. He saw Hot Dog now pinning Betty to the hardwood, licking her face relentlessly until she stopped flailing. She opened her eyes and made eye contact with Jughead.

 

She pushed Hot Dog away from her and looked horrified. Jughead watched the light die in Betty’s eyes as they became glassy.

 

“Betty,” he said as best he could with his potentially broken nose.

 

It was no use.

 

She covered her mouth with her hand as she scrambled to stand up, then bolted out of the bedroom.


	8. love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> love: feeling a deep romantic or sexual attachment to (someone)

Jughead rolled back against his pillow only to throw himself out of Betty’s bed. The door had slammed behind her, but he opened it and walked out into the living room. He stumbled over himself slightly because the pain in his face was overwhelming and he could feel the skin under his eyebrows throbbing as he made his way through the penthouse. He turned to face the elevator, where he saw Betty frantically putting on a jacket and shoes.

 

“Betty... Betty, stop--”

 

She was crying audibly, but turned around to face him. They were standing about ten feet away from each other, but it felt further. When Betty saw the state of Jughead’s face, she continued crying and backed away from him, slamming her back into the closed doors of the elevator. A hand covered her mouth as she stood against the elevator doors and cried harder.

 

“Betty, I’m okay. Please come back.”

 

“I-I hurt you,” she cried, tears creating lines down her face. Her cheeks were flooded with past tears and Jughead could see that Betty looked broken at the sight of him. “I don’t want to hurt you, Jug,” she said, shaking her head.

 

“Just calm down... we’ll figure this out. Please come back,” he replied, starting to cry. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes and started to inch closer and closer towards the ground with every moment that he stood there with her. “Please, Betty.”

 

“I-I can’t hurt-- no, I _won’t_ hurt you again. I can’t do that,” she insisted, shaking her head again and choking out sobs.

 

“Please just come back, Betty, please,” Jughead choked out, not wanting to see her leave. “Don’t leave me, Betty.”

 

He almost felt the same way that he did when he was a teenager and his mother was taking his sister away from him... _far_ away from him. He almost felt the same way that he did a few weeks ago when she was pulling herself away from him, an act he didn’t want her to repeat.

 

“Don’t go,” he said brokenly. “Please.”

 

“I-I’ll just hurt you again... I don’t want to do that, Jughead!” she cried. “I’m going for a walk.”

 

“You’re not supposed to go anywhere without me,” Jughead argued, trying to get her to stay.

 

“I’ll take Archie with me.”

 

“Betty, stop,” he sobbed. “Please, _please,_ don’t leave. Don’t run away from this problem.”

 

“It’s my fault--”

 

“None of this is your fault!” he exclaimed, tears leaving hot trails down his skin. “It’s my fault this time, Betty, I swear! Hot Dog tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen!”

 

“W-What?”

 

“You were having a nightmare!” he said. “You were tossing and turning, but Hot Dog was just watching you. I... He tried to warn me not to touch you, but I didn’t listen and I _did_ touch you... And then you pinned me down and punched me in the face. But it’s my fault you did that!”

 

“Jughead, no--”

 

“For once, please just see that all the problems in the world can’t be blamed on a single person, and definitely not on you every time,” he cried. “This isn’t your fault, Betty. It’s mine. I triggered you.”

 

“Don’t say that...”

 

“It’s my fault, Betty. I should have listened to Hot Dog, but I was stupid,” he continued.

 

Betty was lost for words, tears still running down her face.

 

“Just... don’t leave me, Betty. Don’t abandon me.” His voice cracked as he cried, and he realized there was blood pouring out of his nose at the same rate as the tears coming out of his eyes. He ignored the blood immediately after acknowledging its presence. “Don’t go...”

 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“You won’t hurt me if you stay, Betty. Please stay.”

 

“But I _did_ hurt you.”

 

“I don’t care. It was my fault.”

 

“I...” Betty didn’t truly know how to respond, but she knew that she wanted to get away from Jughead before she made anything worse. If anything, she learned from her former household that she seemed to exist _only_ to make things worse. “I just need to clear my mind, Jug,” she whispered finally, pressing the elevator button. It was a lie. She didn’t need to clear her mind. She wanted to get away from him before she hurt him more.

 

“Betty! Please don’t go! This isn’t your fault!” he yelled.

 

“Jughead, please--” she began, looking him in the eye. The fact that she was bringing tears to his eyes broke her even more. When she first saw him after she had punched him, something had switched inside of her. Now they were here, and he was still looking at her as if she were the only woman in the world that would ever catch his eye. “Please don’t look at me like that.”

 

“Look at you how?” he sobbed.

 

“Like you care about me,” she whimpered, emotional trauma bubbling to the surface in her mind.

 

“God damnit, Betty, I _do_ care about you!” he exclaimed, more tears pouring over the edge.

 

“No one could possibly--”

 

“Don’t you dare finish that. Don’t you _fucking dare_ say you’re unable to be cared for,” Jughead insisted, pointing a finger at her.

 

“I feel like everything is falling apart! I hurt you, Jughead. I hurt you, and you’re the first person I _don’t_ want to hurt!”

 

“I’m okay, Betty. Please, just come back.”

 

“How can you just _stand there_ with a broken nose and say you’re okay?!” she yelled, tears running like rivers. “H-How can you stand there and want me to come back after I hurt you so badly?!”

 

“I won’t be able to bear it if you leave, Betty.”

 

“Why?” she asked, wanting an answer. “Why do you care so much?!”

 

“BECAUSE _I LOVE YOU,_ GODDAMNIT!” he screamed, throwing everything he had into that sentence. A vein had popped out on his forehead at the exclamation. He used up all of the energy and emotion he had built up inside of him, allowing it to overflow and cascade away. The tears flowed freely as he began to cry again, falling to his knees. He held his face in his hands, collecting his tears in his hands.

 

The elevator appeared with a ding, the doors sliding open. Betty jumped at the noise that pierced the silence in the room. She looked at the elevator, then at Jughead again.

 

“God, just let me fucking _love you,_ Betty,” he whimpered from across the room. “You don’t have to say it back if you’re not ready. Just... don’t leave me like my mom did… Like you did last time...”

 

With a final glance at the open elevator, Betty turned back to the man kneeling on the ground, broken and sincere. Brushing away a few tears that she didn’t even knew had fallen from her eyes, Betty quickly shed her jacket and shoes, running over to Jughead as the elevator doors closed behind her. He heard her coming and removed his hands from his face just in time to pull her in by her waist. He hugged her from where he was kneeling, the side of his face pressed against her abdomen and her hands holding him close to her. His arms wrapped around her lower back, refusing to let go of the blonde, fearing she would try to leave again.

 

“Don’t leave me, Betty, please,” he sobbed. “Don’t go.”

 

“I won’t,” she whimpered from above him, raking her hand through his dark hair soothingly.

 

They stayed there and cried together, their audible sobs echoing through the room. Jughead had closed his eyes, allowing the presence of Betty to calm him through his tears. He had his arms wrapped around her slim waist tightly, his head buried into her abdomen, and her hands brushing through his dark hair calmingly.

 

“I love you,” he whispered between sobs. “You don’t have to say it back, but I love you.”

 

The blonde fell to her knees, ridding herself of Jughead’s grip. They looked into each other’s glassy eyes. Betty looked over the damage she did as she raked her hand through his hair gently. Jughead leaned his head into her palm, holding her wrist where it was. They brought each other into a back-breaking hug as Betty buried her face in Jughead’s shoulder and continued to cry.

 

“I’m so sorry for what I did,” she whispered brokenly. “I hate that I hurt you because... I think I’m falling for you.” Betty pulled away from his shoulder to look him in the eye, wiping her own tear from her cheek. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Jug... but I want to be sure before I say it for real.”

 

“Okay,” Jughead replied, nodding and pushing a tear away. “That’s okay.” He paused. “I just wanted to let you know how I feel.”

 

“You’re not upset that I can’t say it?” Betty asked self-consciously.

 

“Of course I’m not upset,” he replied, brushing a blonde curl behind her ear. “I had a feeling you weren’t going to be ready, but that’s okay, I promise. Take your time with it.”

 

Betty gave him a troubled smile.

 

“I don’t want you feeling pressured to say anything to me, Betty, but I think it’s important for someone like you to know that I love you hopelessly.”

 

“How long have you known?” She asked quietly.

 

“I realized it earlier in the day, but I think I’ve known for a while,” he whispered, stroking her cheek. “With someone as amazing as you, it’s hard to keep away.”

 

Betty leaned in gently, placing a hand on the back of Jughead’s neck and pulling him in for a soft kiss. It was pure bliss. Betty’s pillowy lips connected with his, and for a moment, Jughead thought that punch she had delivered killed him and sent him to heaven. He sure was riding on Cloud 9 after professing his love for Betty, having been reduced to his knees as he stood in the shadow of the woman he loved.

 

When they tried to deepen the kiss, the tip of his nose bumped against her cheek, sending a shooting pain through his face. Jughead winced and had to pull away.

 

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” she said frantically when he muttered an _Ouch,_ holding his face in her hands and stroking his cheeks with her thumbs.

 

“I’m okay,” he replied as she looked over the state of his bruised nose and the trails of blood coming from his nostrils.

 

“Let me help you with this, Jug,” she whispered, taking a good look at his nose.

 

“You know about broken noses?” Jughead asked.

 

“Polly and I learned basic first aid after one of the first times I can remember my parents being total asses. One time, that called for knowing how to treat a broken nose.” She looked at him for a little longer before saying: “Let’s get the blood cleaned up first, then I’ll get you some ice and we can see the doctor in the morning.”

 

“Okay,” he agreed. Betty stood up first, extending her hand to Jughead and helping him stand up. She held his hand as they walked into her room, then into her bathroom. Betty turned on the light and told him to stand in front of the mirror as she did her work.

 

Betty took a cotton ball and placed it under the running faucet for only a moment before using it to remove the blood on his upper lip and chin.

 

“All this blood really wanted to go further than just staying on your face,” Betty joked as she soaked up the now dry blood. “You can still breathe through your nose, right?”

 

“Yeah, but it feels numb.”

 

“That’s normal. But at least you can breathe. That means it’s not super serious,” she said.

 

“Odd. That punch was rather brutal,” Jughead retorted. He grabbed the hand Betty used to punch him and looked at her knuckles. The skin had split in one place on her middle knuckle.

 

“Oh no!” he exclaimed jokingly. “I hurt you!” Betty smiled. “I _have_ to go brood as I take a walk on these dangerous New York City streets!” he mocked, eliciting a cheerful laugh from Betty.

 

“There she is,” he added joyfully. “Happy, giggly Betty is my favorite Betty.”

 

She placed her hands on one of his shoulders, bearing down on him to lift herself up and leave a sweet kiss on his cheek. Going back to cleaning his face, Betty swiped at some of the dried blood under his nose a little too quickly. Jughead winced and let go of a strangled groan.

 

“Agh,” he hissed quietly, pulling his head back and away from her hand.

 

“Sorry,” she whispered, removing her hand.

 

“It’s just sore,” he replied. “I’m okay.”

 

Betty nodded and continued to clean up the blood carefully. When she was done, Betty threw away the reddened cotton ball and hugged Jughead. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling Betty in closer.

 

“Sorry,” she muttered again.

 

“It’s okay,” he replied, reaching behind her and into her the first aid kit.

 

“What are you doing?” she asked.

 

“You helped me, so I’m gonna help you,” he said, fishing out a bandaid from the kit. “Give me your hand,” he added. She stepped back and showed him both of her hands. He took the injured one in his own and put the bandaid over the small cut on her hand. When he was done, he brought her knuckle up to his lips, kissing the area softly.

 

“There,” he whispered. “Now we’re even.”

 

“I should really try to get a splint on that nose of yours,” she said. “Then we’d be even.”

 

“Do your worst, Doctor Cooper,” he replied, letting go of her.

 

Betty rummaged around for a bit, gathering what she needed, then went to work on Jughead’s nose. With two small strips of metal, Betty placed them on either side of this nose, then taped them down. Jughead winced a few times as she touched him and she muttered a _sorry_ after each one. By the time she was done, Jughead’s nose was visibly bruised and Betty could confer from there that she did, in fact, break his nose in one way or another.

 

“I can feel it throbbing,” he said after she had packed her materials into the kit again. She then approached him and wrapped her arms around his back, allowing him to do the same.

 

“Let’s go get the ice, huh?” Betty looked up, resting her chin on his chest to see his face.

 

“Will you come with me?”

 

“Of course, Patient Jones,” she replied, biting her lip and pulling away to leave the bathroom. Jughead followed behind her, taking her hand and letting her lead the way. They walked into the kitchen quietly, trying not to wake anyone, even though they had just screamed at each other about half an hour earlier.

 

While Betty opened the freezer to pull out some ice cubes and put them into a plastic bag, Jughead leaned against the wall. He watched her up on her toes, grabbing ice from the top shelf of the freezer as the door of it blocked his view of her head and torso. She was wearing those tiny, pink cotton nightshorts that had him mesmerised. Her long, creamy legs were accentuated by the color and the length of the shorts, and a single glance at her had him skimming his tongue over his bottom lip. He could see the hem of one of his t-shirts hanging at her hips, notably a bit large on her smaller frame.

 

Betty stepped back and closed the freezer door, pressing the air out of the bag as much as she could before sealing it and bundling it in a few paper towels. When Betty finally looked up, she stopped in her tracks, realizing that Jughead had been watching her. She averted her eyes quickly before locking them with Jughead again as she smiled shyly.

 

“What?” she asked self-consciously. He stood up straight and took two slow steps towards her.

 

“Has anyone ever told you, Betty...” he began, placing his hands on her shoulders and letting them slide down to her upper arms. His thumbs stroked her skin as he continued: “How _irresistible_ you are?”

 

The way he spoke the last few words ran a chill down her spine. _She_ was irresistible? No, _he_ was irresistible. There was no other way to see it in her mind. He was a light in her life: the one who had shown her the world in the bedroom, who protected her from the world outside the penthouse, who comforted her and cherished her. She was utterly flabbergasted that he would say something like that about her.

 

“I-- I...” She placed the ice bag on the kitchen counter.

 

“Seriously, Betty. These shorts are driving me _nuts,”_ he said, lowering his gaze to the pink cotton resting on her frame. He held her waist in his hands as he leaned back a little to get a better look at her legs and the shorts. She placed her hands near his elbows and on his forearms to keep herself up. She thought she would melt just at his words.

 

In an act of bravery, Betty took his face in her hand and directed his eyes up to hers. Her lips barely parted, she couldn’t help to gaze at his chiseled features and the cool blue of his eyes. She nearly fell into the depths of the eyes that had calmed her the first day she met him.

 

“Um...” she mumbled, looking away before he captured her attention again.

 

“Are you uncomfortable or just lost for words, Betts?” Jughead asked seriously.

 

“The second one,” she replied almost immediately.

 

“Well, I think you’re the most beautiful woman on this earth, so you’re going to have a hard time getting me to stop telling you how radiant you are,” he whispered, smiling. He earned a soft giggle from Betty. He reached down and picked her up quickly as Betty let go of a hushed squeak and realized she was sitting in his arms, her knees bracketing his hips. She leaned over the back of one of his arms and grabbed the bag of ice before she nodded at Jughead, signaling for him to take them back to her room.

 

He complied as she crossed her ankles behind his back and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled herself even closer, hugging him as he walked and letting her chin hang over his shoulder. He used one of his hands that was holding her to turn the knob of her bedroom door quietly, letting them both in before closing it behind them.

 

“I’m sorry about your nose,” she muttered quietly once more.

 

 _When would she get it?_ Jughead asked himself.

 

“My nose is fine,” he whispered back, sitting Betty on the edge of her bed. He knelt in front of her, forcing her to look down at him. “I’m okay. I’ll be okay.” He took both of her hand in his. “I’m more worried about _you.”_

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you were the one that had the nightmare,” he replied. Jughead watched her swallow harshly. “What was it about?”

 

“My parents,” she said. “It was nothing but them yelling at me about how I was never going to get anywhere... and then it turned into them yelling about Polly and how it was my fault she died... and then my mom laid a hand on me, so I was fighting back... and that was right before I woke up.”

 

Jughead saw that she wasn’t sad or crying, but that she was scared. The look she had in her eyes showed that she was still afraid of what her parents could do if they got their hands on her. She feared physical and emotional harm, that much was clear. He knew Polly’s death had been traumatic for her, and it was sickening to think that her own parents would prey on those traumas to hurt her.

 

“I want you to know,” Jughead began. “That I will _never,_ and I mean _never,_ allow your parents to harm a hair on your blonde head ever again. Do you understand, Betty?”

 

She nodded.

 

“And, hey, if you’re fighting back in your dreams, then I think that’s a good thing,” he added. “They oppressed you for so long, and it’s paining me to see the fear in your eyes, but there comes a time when you can’t take any more, so you get physical.”

 

“But it wasn’t real,” she replied. “And I hurt _you_ instead.”

 

“I’m okay, I promise. I will be fine, Betty,” he repeated. “And I would offer my services to teach you some self defense, but that punch was pretty good so I’m not sure you’d need the help.”

 

She giggled, and Jughead was able to smile.

 

“I will always protect you, Betty,” he said. “Always.”

 

“Why?” she asked curiously. “Why are you so adamant about protecting me?”

 

“You don’t deserve everything that’s coming for you in this world. Your parents and ex boyfriend are abusive, you were wrongfully blamed for what happened to your sister. You don’t deserve any of that. None of it. You are a beautiful, strong, amazing woman that I admire with my entire being. Why _wouldn’t_ I want to protect you?”

 

She smiled and blushed, trying to hide how he had flattered her.

 

“And then you add in the fact that I’m _in love_ with you...” he continued. “And then I _really_ can’t tear myself away.”

 

Only now did Jughead see Betty cry. Her eyes were glassy and there were tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.

 

“I know you can’t say it back, and I promise that’s okay, but I hope these are happy tears,” Jughead said. She choked out a laugh with a sob and nodded her head.

 

“You’re my favorite goofball,” she laughed and sobbed at the same time, taking her hands out of Jughead’s and grabbing his shoulders. She pulled him between her legs, taking his arms and wrapping them around her waist. Betty pulled his head into her abdomen, letting him nuzzle into her belly with his forehead. Her fingers ran through his obsidian waves, softly brushing through.

 

“Mmm, that feels good, Betts,” he muttered into her stomach after a while.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

They continued to stay there as Betty contently brushed through his hair and Jughead held onto her. Her tender touches were becoming more and more enticing. If anything, he was beginning to be aroused by the way she was caring for him, and her fingers grazing over his scalp ever so slightly was setting his entire body on fire. The way he had wrapped her up in his arms and the way she held his head to her abdomen made him want to _do things to her._ He wanted to take her in that bed and work her to oblivion over and over and over, or until they were simply jellified. So, to begin the conversation about that particular subject, Jughead spoke up.  

 

“You have no idea how easy it would be for me to lay you back and go down on you right now,” he said. Jughead could feel her flush bright red without actually having to look up at her. She must have been slightly shocked at his statement, he thought, because she gripped his hair a little tighter in her hand. He continued: “Would you like that?”

 

“We’re supposed to be putting ice on your nose,” she answered, wiggling under him at his previous suggestion.

 

“Believe me, Betty. I would much rather have _you_ than a bag of ice.” He nuzzled closer to her, but she reached back. Before he knew it, there was a cold sensation against his previously numb nose.

 

“What the--”

 

“Shh...” Betty said. “That feel good?”  

 

“Yeah,” he replied. She continued to hold the bag of ice gently against the bridge of his nose and he found himself leaning into her touch. It distracted him from his previous urges, now preferring Betty taking care of him.

 

“You’re like a puppy, you know that, right?” she asked as she played with his hair.

 

“Only for you, Betty Cooper,” he mumbled under the ice. After a few more minutes, Betty pulled her hand away and Jughead was left a little shocked.

 

“What did you do that for?” he asked.

 

“You’re not just supposed to leave the ice on forever, Jug,” she replied. “Just a few minutes at a time.”

 

“Should we wait it out or go to sleep?” Jughead asked, pulling out of her hold and standing up. “We could watch Netflix on your computer while you monitor how much time I get with the ice.” He held out a hand for her.

 

“That sounds nice,” Betty replied, taking his hand and getting up with his help. Jughead jumped up towards Betty’s pillows, falling on his back, and pulled her with him. She giggled as she jumped and landed right next to him. He immediately pulled her closer after she grabbed her laptop and pulled up a movie on Netflix.

 

Because neither of them could sleep after Betty’s nightmare, they stayed in the bed and held onto each other. They played movie after movie, Jughead icing his nose on and off until he was left with a bag full of water. He stole kisses from Betty on her lips, her shoulder, or wherever else he could find one to plant. They kept their eyes on the computer screen until Betty fell asleep during _Someone Great_ near four in the morning. Jughead shut off the laptop, placed it on the bedside table closest to him, then slid further under the covers with Betty, and allowed himself to fall asleep, Hot Dog safely at their feet.

 

**\---**

 

Betty was awake earlier than Jughead had expected. When he finally opened his eyes, he realized she wasn’t in his arms. Rolling onto his back, he first saw Hot Dog at his feet, then Betty up and dressed, pacing the floor while on the phone. She had pulled her plump bottom lip between her teeth as she listened to whoever it was on the other end of the call. Jughead could tell that she wasn’t anxious as much as she was impatient.

 

“Hi. Yes, I need an appointment as early as I can get one today,” she said in a cheerful voice. “I have a boyfriend with a broken nose and I need to get him in to see Doctor Masters.”

 

Betty saying that Jughead was her boyfriend as she called the doctor’s office made Jughead more smug than he thought he would be. _Yeah,_ he thought. _She’s mine._

 

“As soon as possible would best. I know this is very short notice but it’s an emergency,” she continued. Betty stopped speaking, simply standing at the foot of her bed and holding the phone to her ear. She must have been told to _please hold,_ Jughead thought.

 

“Nine-thirty would be great, thank you... Patient name? Jones... Yes, I’ve patched it up the best I can, but I don’t have a medical degree... We iced it for the first three hours after it broke yesterday... Will do. Thank you. Bye.”

 

Betty hung up and sighed, scrolling through her phone a little before looking up at Jughead. Seeing he was awake, Betty’s eyes widened at first, but she soon relaxed into a smile.

 

“Hey,” she said.

 

“Hey yourself,” he replied. She walked around the bed and sat next to his ribs, her legs hanging off the bed and her head facing in his direction. She held one of his hands in her own, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb.

 

“We have to be at the doctor’s office at nine-thirty.”

 

“I figured that much.”

 

“How long have you been up?”

 

“Long enough to listen to the entire call you just had with that receptionist.” Jughead swiveled his hand in hers so that they were interlocking fingers now. “And I also heard someone call me their boyfriend to a medical receptionist.”

 

“Oh,” she muttered, flushing enough that her face felt warm.

 

“And I _definitely_ liked the way that sounded,” Jughead added, smirking. She smiled, leaning down to kiss his cheek quickly. “You didn’t have to schedule that for me, Betts.”

 

“I wanted to.”

 

“I know, but you don’t have to do that for me.”

 

“I feel guilty about it, please just let me help you out,” she replied. “Plus I was already awake, and we agreed that you should go see the doctor first thing this morning.”

 

“I really could have called them myself. I’m not on bed rest.”

 

“You were literally just resting in my bed, Jug.” He rolled his eyes playfully at her comment before she continued. “You’ve taken care of me for so long by protecting me. Let me take care of you now.”

 

They looked each other in they eye for a moment before Jughead answered quietly: “Okay.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“But _only_ because I love you,” he added.

 

“That’s a good enough reason for me,” she replied.

 

“And because I _love_ seeing you under me,” he continued dirtily.

 

“And _I_ love the way you look laying in my bed...” Betty raked her fingers across his chest and pulled away when she continued. “...but you’re gonna have to go get dressed so you can eat before we go,” she said, changing the subject.

 

“Food?” Jughead asked. Betty nodded. “I’ll get up now if you make me some of your signature bacon.”

 

“Deal,” she replied. “You better hurry up if you want to have time to eat it.”

 

Jughead sat up and slung his legs over the side of the bed, coming hip to hip with Betty. He pulled her closer by her shoulders and kissed her cheek before getting up and leaving the room, closing the door behind him. From where she was, she could hear Veronica exclaim and frantically ask Jughead what happened to his nose. He promised an explanation later, and continued to walk across the living room to get dressed.

 

When Betty left her room with Hot Dog a moment later, Veronica hadn’t even began to drink her coffee (which explained her sudden shock).

 

“Okay, was it just me, or does Jughead’s nose look battered and bruised?” she asked Betty.

 

“It’s not just you,” she replied as Hot Dog went and settled himself in one of the dog beds in the living room. “I... uh... _I_ did that last night.”

 

“Wait, what?”

 

“I was having a bad dream, like a _really_ bad one, and Jughead touched me, which triggered me. And I uh...”

 

“What did you do?”

 

“I pinned him to the mattress and punched him in the nose before Hot Dog tackled me,” Betty finished. Veronica stood there, ignoring the pot of readied coffee that had just finished.

 

“So all the yelling I thought I heard really late last night--”

 

“Was me realizing that I hurt him, which made me try to get some distance because I didn’t want to hurt him more, and him getting me to change my mind,” Betty interrupted. “But he also...”

 

“What else did he do?” Veronica asked protectively, approaching Betty. She was concerned, but Betty knew that Veronica had nothing to worry about.

 

“He said he loved me, Ronnie,” Betty whispered, biting her lip in a grin.

 

“Shut up!” Veronica said in disbelief. “Shut _up!”_

 

“I can’t lie to you, V. He said it!” Betty squeaked.

 

“And how are you feeling about that?”

 

_“Amazing!!”_

 

“And did you say anything back?” Veronica pried.

 

“I’m not ready to say it back to him yet,” Betty admitted. “Jughead said he was fine with that, and I told him I wanted to make sure of my feelings before I said it back to him.”

 

“Oh, B,” Veronica added, placing a hand over her heart. “I’m so happy for you. Seriously, he’s great and great _for_ you.”

 

“Thanks, Ronnie.” She began walking into the kitchen before throwing over her shoulder: “Now we just need to find _you_ someone, then this whole penthouse can have a triple date,” Betty joked as she pulled out bacon and began to prepare it.

 

“Oh, please. Don’t.”

 

“What?” Betty asked, slightly shocked. She faced her best friend. “Come on, V.”

 

“I love you, but no.”

 

“Suit yourself,” Betty quipped. “Anyways, can you please pull out a plastic bag and put some ice in it for Jughead? We’re gonna go see the doctor, but they suggested to keep ice on it.”

 

“As long as I can get some of that bacon too, B.”

 

“Of course!” Betty turned back to the frying pan at that, moving it around in the pan slightly. Almost as soon as she had turned her back on her best friend, she started up some music in the background. Betty’s head perked up, recognizing the song, as she turned to see Veronica beginning to dance around while drinking her coffee.

 

“Harry Styles? Carolina? Really?” the blonde asked, placing a hand on her hip and looking at her literary agent and best friend.

 

“B, you love this song. Are you _really_ complaining?” Veronica asked, opening her phone just to restart the song. Betty laughed, allowing a smile to slip onto her face as the raven-haired woman ran over to her. Veronica grabbed Betty’s hands and they started to dance around in the kitchen.

 

_She’s got a family in Carolina_

_So far away but she says I remind her of home_

_Feeling oh so far from home_

 

Betty and Veronica giggled and let their bodies move freely as the smell of bacon enraptured the apartment in a porky haze.

 

_She never saw herself as a west coaster_

_Moved all the way ‘cause her grandma told her_

_“Townes, better swim before you drown”_

 

Betty let her hips sway as she turned back to the sizzling pan, flipping the bacon so she could cook the other side of it as well. Veronica was dancing further away from her now, continuing to down her coffee as Betty bit her lip and giggled again. The music continued.

 

_She’s a good girl_

_She’s such a good girl_

_She’s a good girl_

_She feels so good_

 

After that first chorus, Jughead stepped out from the hallway, fully dressed, facing the kitchen and scratching the back of his head. He glanced up at the sound of the poppy music blasting to see Betty and Veronica dancing around the kitchen. The smell of bacon was less alluring than seeing his girl happy. He watched them in awe for another moment as neither woman noticed his presence.

 

_She’s got a book for every situation_

_Gets into parties without invitations_

_How could you ever turn her down?_

 

After hearing those lyrics, Jughead moved forward with a purpose. Her hips swayed with the beat, her body responding to the music in the room. He approached her and slowly hugged her from behind with his arms draped over her shoulders, matching the rhythm of her hips and swaying against her.

 

_There’s not a drink that I think could sink her_

_How would I tell her that she’s all I think about?_

_Well, I guess she just found out_

 

Jughead’s hands moved to either side of her waist, holding her firmly as she rubbed against him slightly. He rested his chin on one of her shoulders as they danced, pressing the side of his face against hers. He could feel her smile and close her eyes as a giggle reverberated through her body.

 

_She’s a good girl_

_She’s such a good girl_

_She’s a good girl_

_She feels so good_

 

_She feels so good_

 

Sooner rather than later, she brought one of her hands up and around his head, resting at the back of his neck. He could feel her bite her lip smugly as they kept dancing.

 

_I met her once and wrote a song about her_

_I wanna scream, yeah_

_I wanna shout it out_

_And I hope she hears me now_

 

Her hand wandered up, quickly making its way into the dark, unruly wave of the hair at the back of his neck. She pushed her way into his hair, threading his locks through her fingers. He had to stifle a groan that almost dripped from his lips. He kissed her neck sweetly in retaliation.

 

_She’s a good girl_

_She’s such a good girl_

_She’s a good girl_

_Feels so good_

 

He took her hand from where it was on the back of his head, interlocking their fingers. He stepped back, lifting their hands up, and spun her around. She giggled brightly as she twirled around, then ended back up in Jughead’s arms, her hand placed in his hair once more. He was grinning smugly as his hips rocked with hers again.

 

_She feels so good_

_She feels so good_

_She feels so good_

_Oh she’s a good girl_

 

_She feels so good_

 

Betty was still running her nails against his scalp when the song changed to a much slower one. Jughead pulled away from the crook of her neck when the sudden change made him realize where he was. The blonde moved them both over to the sizzling pan on the stove, taking the pieces of bacon out and setting them on paper towels to soak up the grease. Jughead nearly moaned in delight as the smell passed by his nose each time.

 

She just continued to happily hum along to the ballad streaming from her best friend’s phone. Jughead thought the tone of her humming was angelic and he wondered what she would sound like if she let loose and belted something out. He was sure it would be beautiful.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by none other than Veronica shoving a bag of ice into his hand.

 

“Damn, Betty. We’re so hot that Veronica’s gotta give us a bag of ice just to cool us down,” he said, smiling and continuing to rock with her. She let out a loud laugh, bringing a hand to cover her mouth as she snickered.

 

“Oh can it, Jones,” Veronica called from across the room, filling her coffee mug. “It’s for your nose, dumbass.”

 

“No it’s not,” Jughead whispered in Betty’s ear, assuring her while continuing to joke around. The blonde laughed harder as she dropped a few more strips of bacon on the paper towels. Too happy to contain it, Jughead held around her waist and pulled her away from the oven suddenly. He chuckled smugly as he lifted her up and slung her in a circle. She giggled even louder, drawing her knees into her chest while in the air. He set her down in front of the pan with the bacon again and she went back to work.

 

“Jughead, let her finish the bacon,” Veronica said. “That’s my breakfast too.”

 

“Fair point,” Jughead conceded. He kissed Betty on the cheek then let go of her, grabbing a plate from the cabinet. He then placed enough strips of bacon on his plate for himself (which was a good amount), picked up the plate, then held the bag of ice to his nose as he walked to the dining room table.

 

Betty couldn’t help but smile as she finished getting all of the bacon out of the pan. She knew she was doing it and she couldn’t stop herself.

 

“You’re blushing, B,” Veronica teased quietly as she approached the blonde with her plate in hand. Unlike Jughead, Veronica had actually put healthy items (fruit, specifically) on her plate, rather than just the bacon she had placed next to it all. She was leaning back against the counter and looking into the apartment when Betty glanced up at her. “But you’re also glowing with something very important.”

 

“With what?”

 

“Happiness,” she replied simply, taking her glass of orange juice and going to sit across from Jughead, leaving a place for Betty to sit between them at the head of the table.

 

**\---**

 

The trip to the doctor’s office was quite awkward as the doctor asked questions about Jughead’s nose.

 

This was considering that the person who broke his nose was in the room with him.

 

Jughead didn’t want to outright blame her because it truly was just a reflex. She’d pinned him down because he touched her, just like how people grabbed onto things in their sleep without waking up.

 

 _People did that... right?_ He had to ask himself as he sat on the examination bench. He assured himself it was normal, combined with whatever PTSD Betty had from the abusive household and relationship she had been in.

 

Betty, on the other hand, sat in the chair next to him the whole time, feeling guilty. Jughead had to lean over a few times, assuring her he was okay and that it wasn’t her fault. One time where he tried to reassure her, she wouldn’t relent.

 

“If you insist it’s your fault then I forgive you,” he told her.

 

“That still doesn’t make it okay to hurt you.”

 

“You apologized already, Betty,” he continued. “Plus, you’re making it up to me.”

 

“How?”

 

“By taking great care of me.”

 

“Does that count?” she had to ask, unsure of herself.

 

“It does in my mind, so yeah.”

 

Before Betty could disagree, the door had suddenly opened to reveal the doctor. It successfully ended their bickering and made Jughead grin at Betty because he knew he had gotten the last word in. She had pretended not to notice his smugness, but he knew that she had seen him.

 

The doctor, Masters was his name, did what he could concerning Jughead’s nose. He began by complimenting Betty’s handiwork with the makeshift split as he took it off. Dr. Masters didn’t need an x-ray to determine Jughead’s nose was fractured after simply taking a thorough look. After checking to see what size he would need, Dr. Masters left them alone so he could get Jughead a removable splint.

 

Betty tried to apologize again immediately after the door clicked behind the doctor, but Jughead wouldn’t let her.

 

“I don’t wanna hear it. No more apologizing to me.”

 

“Jug--”

 

“Not about this. Not about anything. I don’t want you apologizing to me ever.”

 

“But--”

 

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry, Betts,” he insisted.

 

“Fine.”

 

Dr. Masters came in with the cast-like splint and helped Jughead to put it on, instructing him how to take it off and put it back on. After the quick tutorial, they were free to go.

 

Jughead led Betty out of the office by her hand, opening the front door and holding it open for her as they stepped onto the sidewalk. They began the trek to the Pembrooke and Jughead pulled Betty close, entwining their fingers and letting their hands swing between them as they walked. Since Jughead was dressed casually, he had every right to hold Betty as close as he wanted, so he took advantage of that as she pulled out her sunglasses. Jughead reached for the frames, but she pulled them away from him.

 

“What are you doing?” she asked almost critically.

 

“I want to see those pretty eyes of yours.”

 

“I don’t want anyone out here to recognize me, Jug, especially not the press,” she argued. “I don’t want them interrupting what we’ve got right now.”

 

“And what would that be?” he teased.

 

“Peace of mind,” she replied earnestly.

 

“Fair enough. I won’t fight you,” he said. “Put on the sunglasses already, Persephone.”

 

“Thank you, Hades,” she replied, sliding the frames over the bridge of her nose as they walked. They both grinned obviously at the use of the nicknames.

 

Jughead and Betty walked mostly in silence, forearms brushing and shoulders bumping with every step. Jughead thought he might have never seen a smile so large from Betty when they were making their way back to the penthouse. He was happy that she looked so happy. After the relaxing morning they had, it was hard for him to not feel contented right next to her. It even gave him an idea.

 

“Betty?” he asked, breaking the silence. She tilted her chin to look up at him.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Do you remember that time I got drunk and came back to the penthouse and you took care of me?”

 

“Too well,” she joked.

 

“Do you remember me asking you if you would ever consider going to a dance club with me?”

 

“Quite clearly.”

 

“Have you... thought about it?”

 

“Not too much... What, are you proposing something?”

 

“I still like that idea... and the dancing this morning kinda helped me decide,” he said. “I just want to run it by you before I get too attached to it.... The loud music of clubs... I just don’t want to trigger you with any of that kind of stuff,” he rambled. “I know what thunderstorms do to you, but I don’t know if the bass would--”

 

“Jug,” she interrupted, stopping them both by grabbing Jughead’s other hand and stepping in front of him. “You’re rambling. It’s okay.”

 

“You’re okay with the idea?”

 

“I love the idea, Juggie,” she said. “I just need a little time, you know... to decide if I’m up for that or not.”

 

“Take all the time in the world. I’ll wait,” he replied.

 

“Plus,” she added. “Wherever I’m with you, I feel safe. I think I’d be okay, but I still need a little time.”

 

“Understood,” he replied, releasing one hand from her grasp to place it on her cheek. He pulled her in and left a kiss on the top of her head. Letting her stand up straight again, Betty looked into his eyes. “I love you,” he added.

 

She didn’t respond but smiled. Before he knew it, she crashed into him, hugging him tightly. He brought her in closer by circling his arms around her back and allowing himself to smile with her.

 

He knew she couldn’t say it back to him yet, but he still liked her wordless response. Even if she was never able to say the words back to him, he wouldn’t mind. Not if he could have this forever.

 

**\---**

It was one of Kevin’s personal days that he took off from _The New York Times_ when Jughead watched a lot change.

 

The first thing new thing that happened was meeting McCoy for the first time. It wasn’t quite _meeting._ He was a simple shadow in the corner of the room when she entered, her eyes and intentions fixed on Betty as he was ignored. McCoy was the editor-in-chief of _The New York Times,_ which Jughead learned quickly based on the level of respect Betty met her with.

 

McCoy’s reason for entering Betty’s office was simple: she was giving the journalist an opportunity to get a promotion, to get away from writing entertainment reviews. McCoy was giving her and three others the chance to take a spot on the top floor of the building, in with the other major names of _The New York Times._ Real articles. Important topics. National and international news. As Betty explained it later, that was where everyone aspired to be, where everyone wanted to be writing. She would be supervised by McCoy herself, not McCoy Junior.  

 

“I want something real, something telling. Write an expose or something. It needs depth, inspiration. _Motive.”_

 

Betty took this all down on a sticky note.

 

“Cooper, I need something that I’ll be reading and rereading. Write something someone can’t get out of their head. Got all that?”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

“Call me McCoy. Anyways, I’ll be waiting on your article. I need it by the end of next week. Inspire me, Cooper!”

 

It was nearly Friday now.

 

“O-Of course.”

 

“Good. See you around.”

 

With that, the editor-in-chief was gone, and Betty sighed heavily. Jughead got up from his chair.

 

“You okay?” Jughead asked, walking over to her and taking her hands in his.

 

“Yeah. It’s just a lot of pressure. I want that spot.” She averted her gaze and looked over at Hot Dog, who was perked up.

 

“It sounds like you could use a little break before you get started then,” Jughead suggested, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Something to help you relax.”

 

“I don’t know, Jug... maybe I should just get started and get it done.”

 

Just then, Betty’s computer made a _ding_ sound, signaling her that she had a notification. Jughead let his hands drop to his sides, which allowed Betty to walk over to her computer, opening the notification.

 

“What is it?” Jughead asked curiously.

 

“McCoy Junior says I still have to submit the weekly article I work on with Kevin, even though I’m doing McCoy’s article for the promotion,” she sighed. He could tell by the lilt in her voice that she was starting to get a bit stressed. She stood up straight, smoothing her blonde ponytail back with and twirling the ends with her hands before she let her arms drop. “You know what, Jughead?” she asked, turning to face him. “Maybe I do need a night off.”

 

“What’re you thinking of?” he asked in return.

 

“How about we hit up that club you were talking about,” she suggested, a knowing grin plastered on her face.

 

Jughead smiled brightly, proud of his girl.

 

**\---**

 

“It’ll be a good time! We never leave this house. I _need_ this,” Betty pleaded after she got home from _The New York Times_ that night.

 

“Say less,” Toni said from her place on the couch, her hand on Cheryl’s thigh. “What do you say, babe? Date night at the club?”

 

“I’m _so_ in,” Cheryl said. “We finally get a double date with the notorious Jughead and Betty.”

 

The blonde smiled and clasped her hands together, then turned to Veronica.

 

“What do you say, V?” she asked hopefully, dropping her hands.

 

“Hot Dog will need someone here with him, as I doubt that the club is any place for a sheepdog,” she said.

 

“I already asked Reggie and he said he could,” Betty told her. “Please?”

 

“I don’t want to fifth wheel,” Veronica admitted truthfully.

 

“Then bring Archie or something,” Cheryl suggested. Veronica’s eyes widened at the ginger. “What? You can go as _friends.”_

 

The raven-haired woman sat there for a minute, thinking about the proposal at hand with her arms crossed over her body.

 

“Okay. As long as I can take Archibald with me.”

 

“Sure,” Betty replied. “As long as _you_ stop calling him Archibald.”

 

“It’ll throw him for a loop, but fine. Archie it is.”

 

The next day, they all went about their lives as normal. When it came time for dinner, they all got dressed, Reggie came up to pet sit Hot Dog, they met Archie in the lobby, then they all went to Pop’s. They didn’t take a chauffeur because they all wanted to enjoy New York at night, so they walked everywhere they went that night. After paying for their dinner, the party of six was walking down the sidewalk, a sunset in the distance behind all of the buildings. Jughead and Betty were leading the group towards the club when he leaned over to her and asked her a question.

 

“You’re still sure about this?” Jughead asked her as they walked down the New York City streets, hand in hand.

 

“Jughead, I swear I’ll be okay,” she said for what she thought was the twelve thousandth time that night. “Loud _music_ won’t bother me. The alcohol will help loosen me up, too. How many times do I need to tell you?”

 

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I care too much.”

 

“Look, you take care of me too well. Stop worrying. We’ll be okay.”

 

They continued to walk down the sidewalk in silence, letting their hands swing between them. The conversation between Archie, Cheryl, Toni, and Veronica was easily tuned out just by the overwhelming feeling of calm between Betty and Jughead.

 

Everything was quite serene for the beginning of the weekend in New York City. The pinks and oranges in the skyline were breathtaking, Jughead would say, if his breath hadn’t already been taken away by the woman holding his hand. She looked so good, so happy. She was wearing a loose light blue crop top with a flared (cheerleader-esque, he would describe it) navy skirt that stopped mid-thigh. Paired with navy high top converse that matched her skirt, Jughead thought she looked amazing and relaxed. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, small flyaways rebelling against the ponytail holder at the back of her head. Jughead loved the way her hair swung back and forth behind her when they walked together, but he wouldn’t let her know just yet.

 

He felt like he was in the presence of someone ethereal when he was next to her. He noticed that his hoodie, unzipped and hanging on his shoulders, matched the navy of her skirt and shoes. He smiled at that, he didn’t know why. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a dark green t-shirt under it, feeling a bit too casual in comparison to his girlfriend. He soon shrugged it off when he glanced at her smile.

 

Realizing they were getting closer to the club and that the sun was about to go down for the night, Jughead leaned over to Betty once more.

 

“If something happens tonight--” he began, whispering in her ear, “--you come find me, okay?”

 

“I will, Juggie,” she assured him. “But I want you to know that I don’t plan on leaving your side the entire time.”

 

He noticed the way she bit her lower lip smugly and held it at the mercy of her teeth. He couldn’t help but smile in her direction before she glanced back at him and they both broke into a short fit of laughter. Jughead pulled her closer and let go of Betty’s hand to lace his around her back. Betty soon did the same, letting her fingers rest on his side.

 

When the group arrived at the door, they were all carded by the bouncer before they were allowed inside the club. Betty and Jughead stepped through the doorway first and both took a good look around, allowing themselves to adjust to the pumping bass over the speakers. Behind them were Cheryl and Toni, then Archie and Veronica.

 

Jughead took the lead, pulling Betty behind him as he made his way through the crowd, the other four following them. They found their way to a booth that would fit all of them as they seated themselves. A server soon came around and asked for their drink orders, which they willingly gave.

 

Jughead, who was sitting between Cheryl and Betty, could feel the blonde tense as she held his hand. He glanced over and saw her looking around nervously before he leaned to speak in her ear.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You’re a little tense.”

 

“Oh. Yeah. I’m okay,” she replied, releasing her grip on Jughead’s hand slightly. “I just need that Jack and Coke I ordered and I should be better. There’s just more people than I expected there to be.”

 

Luckily for Betty’s nerves, the server came back with all of their drinks before she could tense up again. Letting go of her boyfriend’s hand, Betty took the drink and nearly emptied all of the contents of the glass in one go, leaving only ice in the bottom. Jughead was caught off-guard by that and took a smaller sip of his drink than she had.

 

Toni, who was on one end of the circular booth, soon stood from her seat and offered her hand to her girlfriend.

 

“There’s a spot on that dance floor for us, Cher,” she said. Nobody could really hear it too well with the thumping bass in the background, but the ginger heard it loud and clear. Cheryl evidently smiled at her girlfriend, taking Toni’s hand. They both giggled as they got away from the table.

 

Jughead looked over at Betty, who was already staring at him knowingly. He knew what she wanted as soon as his eyes had connected with hers. It was so painfully obvious that he couldn’t help but give into her wishes.

 

“Come on,” she said happily. “Let’s go.”

 

“I’m really not a dancer,” he replied.

 

“Our dance in the kitchen last week says otherwise, Mr. Broken Nose Jones,” she chided. She was trying to gain a reaction out of him, and he knew it. “Let me out or I’m climbing over you.”

 

“No and no. I’m not showcasing my moves for this entire club.”

 

“Juggie…” she whined. “Weren’t you the one that suggested this?”

 

In an instant, Jughead suddenly pictured what he and Betty would look like dancing together. And then he truly couldn’t refuse. Before he could let her out, Betty was climbing over him and Jughead was left in awe of her determined nature.

 

“Let’s go, Jug!” she said to him over the music. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself and smile as he slid out of the booth and grabbed Betty by the waist. She giggled as he pulled himself closer, following her lead to the middle of the dancefloor.

 

When she stopped, she turned around to face him. The smiles plastered on their faces brought a sense of light to the mostly darkened club. Betty took his hands in hers and they both began to sway to the beat, their eyes not leaving each other’s.

 

As they continued, they became closer and closer to each other until their bodies were pressed together. Neither of them minded the closeness, Jughead made sure of that.

 

“Is this okay?” he asked in her ear when he was able to feel the curves of her heavenly body against him.

 

“Only because it’s you, Juggie,” she said back, pulling herself up a little straighter to speak to him. It was hard to hear with the pulsation of the music resounding in the air that soon became thick with the infatuation Jughead and Betty had for each other.

 

It was starting to get warmer, Jughead realized, when he saw something on Betty’s skin. Was is sweat? Was she glowing? Maybe. He didn’t quite know what it was. Enticing, however? Yes. He wanted a taste of it, but not here, where everyone could see. No... he could picture a long night ahead of both of them where he would have full freedom to do it then. The thought of that made him smile goofily as they continued to dance.

 

At one point, Betty couldn’t stand the small amount of distance between them any longer and pulled him flush against her, the sides of their faces pressing together. She threaded her hand in his hair, unknowingly setting his scalp on fire so that he could barely breathe without forcing himself to do so (half of the time, his jaw hung slack because of the tender touches she gave him). On the occasions that she pulled her head back to look at him, he could see every color imaginable that came from the club’s lights dancing in her irises, the green hidden from view most of the time.

 

Jughead almost couldn’t think straight. He knew Betty could dance because of her experience as a cheerleader, but _damn_ did she have moves. He relished every motion against him, every time she drug her body against his. The feeling of her nails raking his scalp as her fingers moved more liberally in the dark wave of his hair almost made him growl with want. And maybe she didn’t notice, but he certainly did when he realized that the combination of their hips pressed together was intoxicating. She was nearly rubbing him off with her legs.

 

 _God, those legs,_ he thought to himself, straining to keep his sanity.

 

On one occasion he had glanced down and that navy skirt she wore looked like it had gotten shorter since the last time he had seen it. Before he could think more about it, Betty snuggled closer up to his neck and he kept his arms circled around her waist, clasping his own wrist behind her back.

 

 _She’s so small,_ he thought to himself when he pulled her in closer. _And delicate,_ he added.

 

At one point he heard a noise from her that resembled a whine or a moan, but he couldn’t quite place it. Then he felt her lean into him a little more. He winced, trying not to show her how excited he was to have her with him. To distract him from the ache, Jughead focused his eyes on her hair. Her ponytail swung back and forth, the silky blonde heaven he knew to be tempting living up to its reputation. He wanted to swipe his fingers through it. He wanted just a glimpse of what it felt like right here and right now. He was still being distracted by her presence, her breaths creating chills down his neck and spine.

 

Before he knew it, she had released herself from the hold she had on him and looked him in the eye. One hand was still curled around a lock of his hair at the back of his neck while her green eyes hooked into his soul and pulled him out of reality for a moment.

 

He noticed that she’d ascended to another level when she raised herself on her toes to plant a searing kiss to his lips, effectively pulling him down. It was full of want, unlike their usual calm and sensual manner of kissing. He never wanted it to end, Jughead decided, but he knew Betty was in control. She pulled away and he was left shocked, loosening his grip on her to only skim her hips. Frantically trying to maintain control of himself, Jughead was able to get a hold on her as she moved. She dragged herself across his chest when she decided to turn. He’d been forced to let her go again before she was rubbing her backside against him.

 

Jughead thought he was in heaven.

 

There was now a beautiful blonde in front of him, his hands on her hips as she swayed, and his hips mirroring hers. They were so close together it hurt him, but then he remembered that it was just a single body part that was aching for release. He wasn’t so desperate that he would take care of that urge here. Not here. He wouldn’t ever consider that as an option. He had to be patient, as he always was.

 

The only problem was that it was hard to be patient with the way that Betty was dancing against him. She had kept a hand at the back of his head that was engrossed in his fluffy locks. Jughead noted how his blood rushed south when she slid herself over him. Unable to remain composed for much longer, Jughead wrapped his arms around her abdomen, his fingers teasing the slip of skin that had been revealed by her loose crop top. Trying to gain a sense of semblance, Jughead stayed there, but found himself smoothing his hands on her sides every so often.

 

He knew he was getting reactions out of her. The whole time, he felt when her breath hitched, when she suppress a moan, or when she whimpered subtly. The grip she kept on his hair told him she was trying to hold herself together as much as he was, she had just needed something to latch onto.

 

All of Jughead’s thoughts were dispelled when Betty hummed. He could feel the vibrations waft through his ribcage. Jughead hugged her tighter to him, still dancing against each other, and rested his chin on her shoulder. He was able to bring his mouth to her ear, but he first kissed an exposed portion of her collarbone and the side of her neck. She raised her chin to give him more access and he took it, claiming her jaw and cheek with his lips. Her fingers took a steadier grip in his hair when he moved his mouth to the opening of her ear, whispering things that were not meant for anyone else but her.

 

She was immediately grinning, biting her lip, and struggling not to whimper at his words. He could feel the way she shivered at the ticklish breaths he exhaled near her ear. In a very public place, Betty and Jughead had that personal, private moment which made the entire experience more worthwhile.

 

By the time he stopped teasing her, he was sure that she was nearly about to implode even though they were both grinning like fools.

 

“You wanna get out of here?” he asked huskily, almost having to clear his throat in the middle of the question because he could sense a lump there. He knew he wasn’t able to bear the teasing of Betty against him much longer.

 

She nodded, biting her lip, almost unable to answer as they stopped moving. “Yeah… Yeah, let’s go,” she cracked out, distracted by the need for any sort of presence to quell the ache between her legs. Jughead kissed up her neck again, leaving a kiss behind her ear that made her laugh before she began to lead them in the direction of their booth.

 

Jughead let his arms drape over her shoulders, still behind her. She took both of his hands and brought them together with her own, smiling brightly while staggering through the crowd with Jughead bearing down on her back. They both probably looked like idiots by the way that they were grinning from ear to ear and almost smothering each other, but they didn’t care. The giggling at their own ridiculousness tuned out the rest of the club: the people, the music, everything.

 

Almost stumbling over their own feet, Betty and Jughead somehow found their way back to their table. They found Cheryl and Toni with their arms around each other, both with a glass of water each. Veronica was swirling a few cubes of ice around her empty glass, the ginger she brought nowhere in sight.

 

“Where’s Archie?” Jughead asked Veronica.

 

“He’s getting me another drink,” she replied.

 

“Have you even gotten out of this booth to dance?” Betty asked.

 

“Yes, B. Archie just… isn’t that great of a dancer,” she admitted.

 

Cheryl and Toni nearly spit out their water from the other side of the table.

 

“You should have seen him,” Toni laughed, gasping for air.

 

“He looked like an orange orangutan on crack,” Cheryl added, making Toni hit her fist on the table to keep from bursting into laughter again.

 

“As much as I would love to see that, I’m going to take Betty back to the penthouse,” Jughead said quickly, trying to pull her away before the group in front of them had any questions. He was too slow.

 

“Oh come _on,_ we’ve only been here for an hour!” Cheryl complained. Betty and Jughead turned back to the three women.

 

“I’m exhausted, Cher,” Betty said, sounding like she was complaining slightly. Jughead knew it was a lie.

 

“Babe, if Betty wants to go home and sleep and be _lame...”_ Toni joked, looking up at Betty with a coy smile. “Then that’s on her.”

 

“B, if you want to go home, I won’t stop you,” Veronica told her friend, winking discreetly. The blonde didn’t respond but flushed. Only Jughead and Veronica noticed the change but they pretended nothing happened.

 

“Well, I think that settles it then,” Jughead said. He turned to Veronica and added: “Say goodbye to Archie for us, Ronnie, if you would.” She nodded curtly.

 

“Bye!” Betty said cheerily as she grabbed Jughead’s hand, pulling them both towards the front door.

 

When they got far enough away from Betty’s friends, they both took off running and almost busted through the exit. They hit the sidewalk and slowed down, their hands between them, bumping shoulders and smiling as they began their eager trek to the Pembrooke.

 

Both Betty and Jughead were so giddy to get back to the penthouse that they were still laughing and holding each other close. Jughead even twirled Betty around a few times, watching her skirt flutter in the cool night air. He thought he could watch her like this forever: at peace, happy, relaxed.

 

Eventually their pace slowed and a comfortable rhythm settled between them. They didn’t look up to see in front of them as much as they looked at each other and smiled. They were about a block or two from the Pembrooke now, but it still seemed too far. Neither of them could wait until they were finally alone, and they were still awaiting the moment of their respective releases. All of that energy had been built up to a point before they were both forced to stop because of social norms.

 

Jughead could hear the sound of Betty’s converse hitting the sidewalk as he looked down at their feet. He could barely register anything _but_ her and himself. And them _together._ It was an overwhelming feeling.

 

With a sigh, Jughead looked forward, allowing himself to smile, knowing Betty’s hand was resting carefully in his own palm.

 

That was, until it was ripped from his grasp.

 

A figure, cloaked in black, had grabbed Betty by the wrist, forcing her in the opposite direction. Jughead was stunned, but Betty called out for him desperately.

 

“Jug!” she screamed, fighting the other man’s grip.

 

When he could force himself to do something, _anything,_ he watched Betty stomp on the person’s foot. They growled in pain and let go of the blonde. She was sprinting back to Jughead when she was grabbed around the waist and hauled in the wrong direction by the man. She squealed when she was slung across the sidewalk, and it made Jughead tense protectively. The man’s hood fell down as Betty flew through the air. She landed swiftly on the ground with a thud. The two men faced each other, able to see who they were up against.

 

Jughead’s fingers curled into fists at the sight of the familiar man. Anger boiled inside of him when Betty hadn’t gotten up, tossed to the side like some piece of trash. She was anything but trash or a possession to be owned by anyone. She was a good, kind person, who had been through so much, and a lot of the shit she’d endured was caused by the man standing opposite Jughead.

 

When he looked at the man that had treated her like trash and was continuing to treat her like trash, Jughead let himself growl at Malachi. The man grinned devilishly and pulled a switchblade out of his pocket, clicking it open.

 

“You think you can just come in and take my girl from me?” Malachi taunted. “No matter what, I will always find her. She will always belong to me.”

 

“She doesn’t belong to anybody, you piece of shit!” Jughead yelled back. “And she definitely doesn’t want you!” He growled, running towards him.

 

If Malachi’s purpose was to get Jughead’s level of anger to rise, he had succeeded. Even so, Malachi was definitely not prepared for the storm of disgust brewing inside of Jughead Jones. He was a tank of gasoline, waiting for the spark. That was it.

 

Jughead sprinted full force towards Malachi, and Malachi did the same. Jughead drove his shoulder into Malachi’s abdomen, effectively tackling him to the cement sidewalk.

 

Both men put up a fight, Jughead with his fists and Malachi with his blade. Jughead’s right hooks were starting to wear Malachi down, but Jughead had also been cut a few times by the blade, holes in the arms of his hoodies being made and coated in his blood. Jughead ignored any injury he attained, saving that for later. What mattered now was winning.

 

Jughead had effectively pinned Malachi to the ground when he looked up only momentarily at Betty, still splayed on the sidewalk. It was a moment too long, as Malachi took advantage of the moment of weakness, somehow flipping them over so that Malachi was able to cut Jughead a few more times with the blade.

 

In a moment of anger, Jughead brought his feet up and nailed Malachi in the chest, knocking him away and making him fall back down to the ground. When Jughead rose to pin Malachi to the ground once again, he saw Betty sitting up, obviously appalled at them for brawling on the street like this.

 

“Jug!” she yelled, watching them fight.

 

Her presence spurred him on. It made him want to fight harder for her sake, to keep her safe. She inspired him to end the fight once and for all.

 

Fixing his focus back on his opponent once more, Jughead stood, quickly running to where Malachi was. He stomped on Malachi’s wrist, creating a loud _crunch_ sound and making him drop the switchblade. Jughead kicked it out of reach of both of them, kneeling on Malachi’s chest.

 

Jughead swung, and swung, and swung on Malachi’s face until he was sure that the man’s nose was broken and that he was no longer conscious. Malachi’s head slumped to one side, his face battered and bruised from Jughead’s fists.

 

Jughead stood up shakily, knowing he probably had Malachi’s blood splattered on him, as well as his own in random spots. He winced and hissed through clenched teeth when he rose to his full height, obviously injured and exhausted from the fight. When he was able to grasp what he had done, Jughead watched as Betty scrambled to get up.

 

He sighed in relief, realizing they were still a ways away from each other.

 

“Betty,” he breathed, opening his arms.

 

She bolted towards him, nearly crying. Before he knew it, she crashed into his chest, holding him tightly. He breathed deeply, allowing his arms to encircle her and letting himself calm down now that she was safe.

 

“I love you,” she told him, evidently on the verge of tears. “I love you, Jughead,” she repeated.

 

“I love you too, Betty Cooper,” he replied contentedly, laying a kiss to the crown of her head. They were only able to stand there for a few moments before Jughead pulled away to look at her. He sighed and gazed into her emerald eyes that were being highlighted by the moonlight.

 

“Are you ready to be done with that pig?” he asked, motioning to Malachi behind her, still unconscious.

 

“It’s gone on for far too long,” she said.

 

“I’ll handle him, and you call the police. Is that good?”

 

“Yeah. That’s fine,” she agreed. “Go ahead and do what you need to.”

 

He kissed her forehead tenderly before letting go of her and walking over to where Malachi lay. She turned around and watched him as she pulled out her phone. Jughead found an unused zip tie in his pocket, one that she knew Hiram Lodge had required him to carry at all times.

 

When he flipped the man over and began binding his hands together, Betty looked at her phone. She dialed the three numbers slowly, pressing each button diligently. She sighed as Jughead began to pull Malachi over to a fence to secure him there. Before she knew it, her thumb had landed on the call button and she was holding the speaker to her ear.

 

 _“911, what’s your emergency?”_ the female operator asked calmly.

 

“My name is Elizabeth Cooper,” she began. “And I’d like to report someone for sexual assault.”

 

**\---**

 

Once Betty had gotten off the phone with emergency services, Jughead held her to his chest for comfort.

 

“It’s going to be over soon,” he whispered in her ear many times.

 

The police were the first ones on the scene, thanking Jughead and taking Malachi off of his hands.

 

Malachi was not pleased with his situation in the slightest when he came to. He had yelled slurs at Betty and Jughead while they were waiting, but they were both able to ignore him. When the police arrived, he was cut free from the fence he had been zip tied to only to be shoved into a pair of handcuffs, and then into a police cruiser as he was read his rights. A few of the officers left with Malachi, while a few stayed around to speak with Betty and Jughead for a few moments or to collect evidence from the area (notably, the switchblade used).

 

They were both subjected to basic witness statements that night, but they were told that they would mostly leave them alone because it was getting late. When they called them, the officer said, they would both need to come into the New York City Police Department. Before the police left, an ambulance was also called to make sure Betty and Jughead were okay. The officer they were talking to, Tom Keller (who Betty quickly realized was Kevin’s dad), left them in the hands of the paramedics before he left the scene.

 

Jughead was lucky that his wounds weren’t worse than they were. Malachi could have done some serious damage with the switchblade, but Jughead was lucky to only have a few superficial cuts to different parts of his body. Betty, who had been thrown to the ground by Malachi, was more likely than not to have bruises down her back from the impact. The paramedics said that Betty was lucky she didn’t break any ribs from being thrown.

 

Jughead’s injuries were treated accordingly, gauze and antiseptic to the gashes in his skin, and Betty was given an ice pack for her back. They were allowed to sit on the back end of the ambulance for a few minutes before they would be on their way. Betty’s head rested on Jughead’s shoulder, his arm around her back.

 

“I love you, Jug,” she muttered, cutting the silence between them.

 

“I love you too, Betty,” he replied. They both smiled for a moment before the silence was back again.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jughead saw a solitary flash. It was a small burst of light that had been aimed towards them.

 

 _Shit,_ he thought. _The press._

 

The last thing that Betty needed now was the paparazzi and the drama that followed them.

 

 _They’ll see her,_ he thought to himself, straightening up.

 

“Jug?” Betty asked, noting the change in his posture. “What’s wrong?”

 

"Listen to me very carefully and do what I say," he whispered. She nodded. “Here’s what we’re gonna do...”


	9. trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trapped: the feeling of being in an unpleasant situation in which you lack freedom, and you feel you cannot escape from it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been almost a month, but I've done it! 
> 
> Look at me, updating for all of my readers out there. Hey, readers! 
> 
> Enjoy all 38 pages.

_ “Jug?” Betty asked, noting the change in his posture. “What’s wrong?”  _

__

_ "Listen to me very carefully and do what I say," he whispered. She nodded. “Here’s what we’re gonna do...” _

 

“Jughead, what’s going on?” Betty asked as he began to painfully shrug off his hoodie. 

 

“Act natural,” he whispered. “I’ll explain later. Help me get out of this, will you?” 

 

Betty stayed quiet and helped pull the navy hoodie off of her boyfriend’s shoulders. He winced and hissed as it was peeled away, but he eventually got it off. The blonde held it in her hands as he looked at her. 

 

“Put it on,” he said sternly. “And pull up the hood.” 

 

“Jug--” 

 

“Do it, please,” he added. Still confused, she pulled her arms through the ripped sleeves and threw the hood over her head. Jughead was looking straight forward when there was another flash in the distance. He quickly said a thank you to the paramedics behind him before looking back at Betty. 

 

“Okay, let’s go,” he told her, standing up. “We need to go. Now.” 

 

“Juggie--” 

 

“Come on, Betty,” he whispered, grabbing her hand and pulling her up. “I’ll tell you what’s going on when we get back to the penthouse, but for now I need you to act natural and do as I say, okay?” 

 

She nodded, wrapping an arm around his back as they began to walk towards the Pembrooke. Neither of them had yet adjusted to their new condition, but Jughead ushered them along the sidewalk as best he could, taking a glance back as often as he needed to. He had the slightest limp and he could tell that she was straining to walk too. 

 

They were one block away from the Pembrooke when Jughead glanced behind him again and saw not just one press person had crossed the street to follow them, but two others as well. They were getting closer, evidently calling out to Betty. 

 

“Can you run, Betts?” Jughead asked. 

 

“Why?” 

 

“Because I might need you to run for the Pembrooke if I give the say so,” he whispered. “Can you?” To his relief, she nodded. 

 

The flashing was beginning to get closer to them, but Jughead didn’t think that Betty noticed. He looked back again with his arm around Betty’s shoulders and saw a flock of reporters calling out to her. 

 

“ELIZABETH COOPER!” they seemed to chant like it was a mantra. Jughead turned back to her. 

 

“Keep your head down, don’t make eye contact, and don’t turn around. We need to speed up. Just trust me,” he told her. They started walking faster as the press started asking questions while still calling out her name. 

 

“What happened here?” 

 

“What do you know of the fight on the street?” 

 

“Were you attacked?” 

 

“Who was the person that got arrested?” 

 

The flashing lights were getting closer, but Jughead was sure that Betty was clenching her eyes shut and tuning out everyone behind them. 

 

All he knew in that moment was getting her to safety. He didn’t care who he would have to punch, knee, or tackle: he was going to be damned if he wasn’t able to keep her safe. Nobody would come close to laying a  _ finger _ on her before he would step in. If anyone so much as looked at Betty the wrong way, he knew that it would be the last thing they ever did. Anyone would be a dumbass to interfere with the woman he loved. 

 

The press started to gain on them, asking questions about anything they had heard about or seen that night. He and Betty could only keep speed walking for a short amount of time before they would soon be suffocating under their pressure. Jughead pulled Betty’s shoulders closer to his side protectively, her head still bowed as the reporters were shouting her name and the questions from about ten feet away. His neck craned down to hers, his mouth near her ear. 

 

“When I say, we’re going to take off at a sprint for the Pembrooke. It’s a straight shot,” he said so only she could hear. “I’ll be right next to you the whole time.” 

 

She nodded, then he peered back at the crowd of reporters. They were growing closer, becoming more intrusive with their questions. Jughead was sure that Betty wasn’t listening, but he heard a few of them. 

 

“Who is that with you?” 

 

“Did you know the person that was trying to attack you?” 

 

Jughead faced forward, still guiding Betty along. He removed her arm from where it was around the small of his back, taking her hand in his. He interlocked their fingers before softly saying: “Now.” 

 

Betty’s head snapped up while they both ran as fast as they could down the sidewalk. Jughead was faster, nearly pulling Betty along. They were both having trouble running as fast as they could. It hurt, and it definitely wasn’t a sustainable way of travel. Jughead only hoped it could get them to the door quick enough. 

 

Betty could feel the burning sensation in her exhausted legs, the blood circulating rapidly and leaving her calves on fire. Jughead felt every step with all of the cuts on his body. They were getting close to the doors to the lobby. When he glanced back at the blonde, she nearly stumbled and fell. 

 

“Jug!” she exclaimed, being forced to let go of his hand. 

 

Jughead caught her swiftly as she fell into his arms. Her legs reflexively picked themselves up and off the ground when he grabbed her out of midair, his arms slinging around her waist. Her small body was pulled into his stable chest in a quick motion. 

 

He snatched her off the sidewalk, taking two large steps backwards. He collided with the Pembrooke’s revolving door, pulling them both through. He tripped on his own feet as he tumbled backwards, Betty tucked into his chest. He hit his back on the tile floor, both of them sliding across the smooth surface and into safety. Dazed by the impact, Jughead turned his head to the security desk. 

 

“Lock the doors!” he yelled to the man sitting behind the counter. Jughead thought his name was Andre. The doorman pressed a few buttons and Jughead heard the locks click in unison. It was only then that he could relax, letting out a large sigh he didn’t know he was holding in. Betty was still curled in a ball on top of him, seemingly tense. Jughead quickly pulled the hood off of her head, smoothing back her blonde hair. 

 

“We made it, Betts,” he whispered. She exhaled in a relieved fashion and allowed herself to relax, sliding off of his body. She sat next to him and rested her head on his shoulder, still holding onto Jughead. She quickly remembered the deal. 

 

“What was that?” she asked, looking up at him. “Were we being followed?” 

 

“Yes,” he replied quickly. He saw a reporter peering in the glass doors of the Pembrooke. Jughead quickly got to his feet and took Betty with him. “I’ll tell you more in the elevator.” She nodded and he turned to Andre at the desk. “Fourteenth floor, if you will.” The man nodded, pressing a few more buttons before an elevator appeared for them. Jughead ushered Betty inside, pressed the button for their floor, and then the doors closed. 

 

“We were being followed by the press,” he said to her. She looked up at him. “I didn’t want you to freak out. I wanted to protect you. I know you don’t really like the press unless you  _ want _ to be seen. And I know that you didn’t want to be seen tonight… and I figured you wouldn’t want to be seen by them after the fi--” 

 

He was cut off by Betty’s lips crashing into his after she’d pulled him down by the collar of his t-shirt. She felt soft and pure against him as he let himself be tugged towards her. His hands found purchase on her sides while she let go of his shirt, cupping the sides of his neck and stroking his skin with her thumbs. He quickly deepened the kiss, letting his tongue slip inside her mouth. She sighed breathily against his lips, so he pulled her closer. 

 

The ding of the elevator made them both jump away from one another, seeing Reggie sitting on the couch. Hot Dog was laying in a dog bed in the corner, but he perked up and ran to Betty when she stepped out of the elevator, Jughead behind her. Reggie turned around immediately at the sound of the elevator. 

 

“Sup, Jugs, Betty,” he greeted. “Didn’t expect you to be back so soon.” 

 

“Well here we are,” Jughead replied while Hot Dog was still infatuating himself with Betty. “I think we can take it from here, Reg.” 

 

“Cool. Cool. Hot Dog has been chill. He really just sat and watched me the whole time. It was a little weird at first, but he eventually just became a shadow,” Reggie told them. “This is the most alive I’ve seen him all night,” he said when he saw Hot Dog interacting with Betty. The sheepdog had brushed against Betty’s leg multiple times, evidently sensing that she had just been through something bad. He was trying to comfort her, Jughead could tell. 

 

“Thanks for taking care of him, Reggie,” she said finally. 

 

“Any time,” he replied. “I’ll be going now. See ya both later.” Reggie walked away and pressed the button for the elevator. It almost immediately appeared, and he stepped inside. 

 

“Bye,” Jughead and Betty said at the same time while the doors were closing. Reggie gave them a quick two-finger salute before he disappeared. 

 

When Reggie left, Hot Dog went back to his bed in the corner, leaving Betty and Jughead nearly alone again. They looked at each other, remembering what they had been talking about. 

 

“So the press, huh?” Betty asked. 

 

“I saw one, then I tried to get you away, but that only ended in more spotting us,” he sighed. “I was trying to keep you safe but I just threw you back into the spotlight.” 

 

“Jug--” 

 

“I’m sure you didn’t want the public knowing about this too, just like you said about how you didn’t want to include your parents physical abuse in your book,” he rambled. “I’m sorry, B--” 

 

She cut him off by yanking his head and neck down for another kiss. This one wasn’t soft like the previous one. This one had a kick to it. It was captivating, alluring, and left him needing more of her. Catching onto his senses after what felt like an eternity, Jughead placed his hands on her sides, keeping her close. 

 

As their kisses became more desperate, Jughead felt himself holding back, not wanting to overwhelm her. Betty, on the other hand, was pushing herself up to him, nearly whining with want when they separated for even a moment. Her fingers were embedded in his inky tresses, and he wanted nothing more than to yank on her hair tie and make her golden waves tumble over her shoulders like a heavenly waterfall. 

 

He wasn’t sure that Betty would want to be intimate after encountering Malachi… until he heard a faint whisper. 

 

“I love you, Juggie,” she had said between kisses. Her soft words against his bottom lip made him want to carry her to her room and pound into her until they saw stars together. 

 

“Take me,” she added. “Take what you want from me. Take what you  _ need _ from me.” 

 

He didn’t hesitate when he slid his hands down to her backside, peeling apart her legs. He hoisted her into his arms quickly, making Betty bite his lip in surprise. She gasped when she realized she was wrapped around him, but dove right back into his mouth. 

 

Intoxicated by her body enfolding his, Jughead bumped into a few pieces of furniture before finding her bedroom door and flinging it open. He nearly threw them both inside the room, shutting the door with the sole of his foot two nanoseconds before her back was crashing against it. Betty was surprised but mostly unfazed. She continued to comb her fingers through his hair. When she hummed in his mouth out of pleasure, his pelvis inadvertently bucked into hers. This made Betty try to conceal a groan from her throat. She wrapped her legs around his back, crossing her ankles and pressing them into his spine. He was pulled further into her and they both had to pull away to hum in satisfaction. 

 

While Betty’s head fell back and rested against the door, Jughead dove his face into the crook of her neck, kissing gently while peeling his hoodie off of her shoulders. She sighed softly and ran her fingers through his hair more liberally, which made him buck against her again. While he threw the hoodie across the room, her back rammed into the door ungracefully, making her hiss in discomfort. Jughead pulled away, looking her in the eye. 

 

“Did that hurt? I’m sorry.” 

 

“It’s not your fault. I was already hurt,” she said quickly. Betty went back in towards him but he pulled back, straining his own injuries and wincing. 

 

“Maybe we shouldn’t tonight…” he said, noticeably pained not only for himself, but for her injuries as well. 

 

“Hey, stop,” Betty told him, grabbing his face and directing his gaze to hers. “I’m okay. And I told you I want this. I want  _ you. _ I love  _ you… _ and before you protest, I know you want me too.”

 

“Betty--” 

 

_ “Can it,” _ she demanded. He shut up. “We’re finally free of Malachi. He’s going away… and beyond that, I just told you I loved you,” she continued, leaving him lost for words. “I do. And I want you right now because  _ I love you, _ Jughead.” 

 

“You’re hurt,” he added. 

 

“And so are you, but I don’t see you complaining!” she argued. “And I don’t give a damn! My love and my want for you right now exceed my pain… and I’d be mistaken if it wasn’t the same for you,” she stated bluntly, pointing a stern finger at him.  _ “Isn’t that right?” _

 

Before Betty knew what was happening, Jughead crashed his lips to hers again. Betty allowed herself to be pushed against the door further, relishing the ache that appeared in her back. Her hand pulled itself from Jughead's hair and wandered across his back, her nails raking across the cotton of his slashed t-shirt. When she moved over his gauze, Jughead almost growled in her mouth. 

 

The pain from their encounter with Betty’s past coursed through their veins, invigorating them and making them feel more alive than ever before. If there was one thing they were sure of that night, it was that they felt alive and free. 

 

Yes, they had both escaped with their lives, Jughead realized when Betty bunched his t-shirt in her hand, tugging it up slightly (which effectively triggered him to pull away from her lips and yank the offending material over his head). After everything they had been through - after everything that  _ Betty _ had been through - they both deserved to feel free. He wanted the blonde between him and the wall to feel alive after all of the abuse she’d endured at the hands of the Coopers and Malachi. He wanted her to understand how strongly she deserved to be away from them. How strongly she deserved to feel alive. How strongly she deserved to feel cared for and accepted. He wanted to show her, above all, how much he loved her. 

 

Jughead Jones was completely, uncontrollably, and undeniably head over heels for Betty Cooper. Some would call him whipped. In love. Others would call him a hopeless case. But he’d never cared what people would say about anything that he did. He knew that he would never get enough of Betty  _ (that _ was proven when he was trying and failing to undo her bra clasp as she sucked on his neck). He knew he would never tire of her laugh, smile, body, or personality. He really did love her with his whole heart. 

 

Betty loved him back with the same sort of intensity, but she still didn’t believe she deserved him. Jughead was a caring, supportive, chivalrous man, and she loved that about him, but she didn’t think that someone like her deserved a person with those qualities. Jughead always told her she should have better than what she was dealt by life, but Betty still hadn’t grasped that he truly, one hundred percent, irrevocably meant it. 

 

Jughead sensed those uncertainties while their bare chests were pressed together on her bed, their mouth doing as they pleased and her legs wrapped around him tightly. Most of their clothes had been shed, all except their underwear. 

 

When Betty reached for the waistband of his boxers, Jughead had to stop her. He’d realized something. 

 

“Jug?” she asked softly. “What’s wrong?” 

 

She was obviously taken back when he halted her advances… but he had to admit that besides where he was wrapped in gauze and where she had a line of bruises, nothing was wrong. Not a single thing was out of place. There was absolutely no problem. 

 

“Nothing,” he whispered huskily. “Nothing at all… I just wanted to look at you.” 

 

His mind simply needed a moment to process what had just come into fruition. 

 

He’d realized they weren’t soulmates. Soulmates weren’t rare. Soulmates could have been anyone they had a strong connection with. No, soulmates were far too common for what they had together - for what they  _ were. _

 

One’s North Star, he thought, was one in a million. 

 

And that’s what they were for each other. 

 

Knowing her was like being found when he didn’t know he was lost. She’d shown him the way home, but beyond that, he  _ was _ home. She existed beneath his skin, in his veins, in his bones. He could have been  _ born _ half in love with her, like she was written for him in some past life. 

 

“I love you,” he whispered, diving back in. 

 

“I love you, too,” she found room to murmur between the endless void of their lips dancing with each other.

 

So when he placed her hands back on his boxers for her to take them off, nothing was wrong. 

 

In fact, everything was quite right for once. 

 

She was just his North Star, guiding him home. 

 

**\---**

 

Cheryl was the first one awake the next morning. She quietly untangled herself from Toni, not wanting to wake her in case she had a hangover from the previous night. After getting clothed (because Betty and Jughead weren’t the only ones that were allowed to have fun together), Cheryl left her room silently and headed towards the kitchen She found Hot dog sitting by Betty’s door, like his did most mornings these days. The ginger let him in quietly, only the click of the sheepdog’s toenails audible on the hardwood. 

 

Turning away from Betty’s door, Cheryl went in the kitchen and started a pot of coffee (while she was waiting, she placed a bottle of Advil on Toni’s nightstand). When the smell of coffee had captured the penthouse, Veronica revealed herself as she walked into the kitchen. Cheryl noted that she looked more well-rested and relaxed than usual. 

 

“That coffee smells like a gift from the heavens,” she said lazily, passing Cheryl to grab a mug from the cabinet behind her. 

 

“Well good morning to you too, V,” Cheryl greeted. “Ride any ginger stallions last night?” 

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Veronica denied quickly. 

 

“Sure you don’t.” 

 

“Cheryl, I swear to God--” 

 

“Will you two shut  _ up?” _ Toni butted in, holding a hand to her forehead as the coffee finished. “You two are nearly screaming across the apartment.” 

 

For the record, they weren’t. But Toni was not the person one should argue with when the petite woman had a hangover. The pink-haired adult made a beeline for her taller girlfriend, easily latching onto Cheryl as she poured herself a cup of coffee. 

 

“Did you take the Advil I left you, TT?” 

 

“No,” she grumbled while hugging Cheryl. 

 

“Go do that and I’ll fix you a cup of coffee, okay?” 

 

Toni nearly growled her response, but it sounded like she said “Fine.” She let go of Cheryl and shuffled back towards her room. 

 

“Thanks, babe,” Cheryl added as Toni walked around the corner. 

 

As Veronica poured herself a mug of coffee, Cheryl brought her own cup to her lips and took a large sip. 

 

“You and Toni were quite loud last night,” Veronica teased. 

 

“Yeah, but at least  _ we _ own up to it,” Cheryl quipped, stepping out of the kitchen and towards the living room. Veronica scoffed behind her, adding creamer to her coffee. 

 

“See, the difference between us is that  _ I’m _ not afraid to admit I’m attracted to a ginger,” Toni said, stopping near Cheryl to give her a high five before she made her way to the coffee pot. 

 

“If you two think that Archie and I would ever--” 

 

“Save your fibbing for Betty and Jughead,” Toni added, pouring her coffee, as Veronica worked sugar into hers and rolled her eyes. The petite woman took her coffee black, and was walking over to her girlfriend when Cheryl picked up the TV remote, pressing the power button. Veronica was on her way over to the other two when the TV came on. Toni closed her eyes, relishing in the taste of the bitter liquid. 

 

That was to say that Cheryl was the first one to look up at the headlining story on the news. Her jaw slacked immediately. 

 

“Do you guys see what I’m seeing, or is this some kind of prank?” Cheryl asked. The two other women in the room looked at her curiously. 

 

“What?” Veronica asked keeping her gaze on the ginger. Toni turned away first, seeing the TV screen. Her eyes widened at the newsreel. 

 

“Holy fuck,” Toni muttered. Veronica looked over too and had the same reaction and realization.

 

“Shit.” She set down her coffee, beginning to walk over quickly to Betty’s bedroom door. 

 

“Babe?” Toni asked, turning to her girlfriend. Cheryl faced her. “D’you think it’s too early to spike coffee?” 

 

“With what?” 

 

_ “Anything. _ Anything at all.” 

 

Cheryl didn’t reply. 

 

“I’ll pull out the scotch.” 

 

**\---**

 

They had slept soundly through the night after their several trysts in Betty’s bedroom. Neither woke, and they barely even moved or shifted in their sleep. The only thing that could be heard between them was their collective breathing, which could have been mistaken for the calm waves of the sea. Hot Dog was a mere white cap in the water as he laid at their feet. 

 

Their bodies were entwined like tree branches growing together. One of Betty’s arms was wrapped around his shoulders, her elbow subtly supporting his neck. Jughead’s hand had a solid gip in her splayed blonde hair, the ponytail long forgotten during the night. Another of Betty’s arms was creating a line across his chest while he held her there with his free hand, Jughead’s palm gently gripping her upper arm. Their legs were tangled together as well, and their bare torsos nearly melted into each other. Jughead’s gauze and Betty’s bruises were on full display from before they lost themselves inside each other. 

 

They were peaceful. More peaceful than they had ever been before. 

 

The banging on their door startled them both, causing each to inhale sharply and grab onto each other as their eyelids snapped open. 

 

“You two better be in here.” It was Veronica. “I don’t want to disrupt you, but you both need to see this.” 

 

Jughead and Betty finally looked at each other, concerned. 

 

_ “Now, _ please,” Veronica insisted. 

 

Widening their eyes at the same time, Betty and Jughead nearly jumped out of bed in opposite directions. They stumbled over themselves as they threw clothing on and strained their injuries. There were a few gasps, yelps of pain, and groans as they scrambled to become decent, but they were ready to go quickly. Jughead waited for Betty to get ready and stood at the door for her. When she was done, Betty ran over to him and grabbed his hand before they both scampered out of her bedroom. 

 

They barged in on Cheryl still standing in front of the TV, noticeably in shock. She was just standing there, gaping at the newsreel. 

 

Betty didn’t see Veronica immediately after they emerged, but Betty figured that Veronica was off pacing somewhere, trying to figure out the best course of action for whatever was going on. 

 

When she looked towards the kitchen, Betty spotted Toni. The pink-haired petite was adding their good scotch (the one Hiram Lodge had gotten them when her memoir had first topped the literary charts) to her coffee. Betty watched her take a sip, decide there wasn’t enough alcohol, and add some more. 

 

“What the hell is going on?” Jughead asked. Betty shrugged in his direction, but they both looked at the TV and saw what Cheryl was seeing:

 

**_BEST SELLING NOVELIST ELIZABETH COOPER INVOLVED IN NEW YORK CITY STREET FIGHT_ **

 

“Fucking hell,” Jughead muttered. Betty just stood there and took it all in as she watched herself be thrown to the pavement by Malachi Gonzalez. 

 

“Oh my God,” Cheryl muttered, turning to face the intruding couple. “Betty, was that  _ you?!” _ She pointed to the screen where the blonde had been thrown in the video. Betty noted that her body was laying on the ground as Jughead and Malachi were now fighting on the screen. 

 

“I-I guess…” 

 

“This means  _ more _ scotch!” Toni interjected from the kitchen. 

 

“Toni, no,” Betty said, turning towards her publicist. 

 

“Toni, yes!” Toni called back, picking up the bottle. 

 

“Antoinette Topaz, don’t you dare,” Cheryl declared, now pointing her finger at her girlfriend. Angry to be interrupted, Toni placed the bottle back on the counter, which was accompanied by the sound of marble hitting glass. 

 

“Fine,” she grumbled. 

 

“How did you even  _ reach the bottle?” _ Betty asked, knowing that they stored their harder liquor above their refrigerator. 

 

“Beats me,” Toni replied, shrugging and looking up at the opened cabinet behind her. “Anything’s possible when you’re mostly hungover.” 

 

Jughead looked back at Betty and they both smiled, laughing quietly. They both stopped when the TV caught their attention again. They were showing clips from the fight and from when Betty and Jughead were trying to get away from the press together. A voice was layered over the video from the previous night. 

 

“After the fight, Elizabeth Cooper and her protector were treated for their injuries by paramedics on the scene, while the assaulter was taken to the New York City Police Department.” 

 

The reporter made sure to add in that the police department hadn’t released any information to the press about who the assaulter was, which was a massive relief for Betty in respect to her privacy and public image. 

 

“When we tried to press Cooper for questions as she and her protector were walking away from the scene, they ignored reporters and refused to acknowledge inquiries. Her protector rushed her away from the scene, which leads us to believe that he could have been a bodyguard or a close friend. The protector proceeded to pull himself and Cooper into the same building we are standing outside right now. More updates to come. This has been Laurie Lake--” 

 

“Goddamnit—“ Jughead began, taking his free hand and dragging it forcefully over his face. This was exactly the sort of thing he had tried to prevent. 

 

The TV was cut off before the reporter could finish her sentence. All eyes in the room locked on Veronica Lodge. 

 

“V…” Betty said. 

 

“You could have told me, B,” she replied. “Did that thought even cross your mind?” 

 

“Ronnie,” the blonde mumbled, lost for words. She dropped Jughead’s hand and took a hesitant step forward. Her eyes became glassy immediately. “I’m sorry… I--” 

 

“How am I, your  _ best friend, _ supposed to protect you if you don’t  _ tell me shit, _ Betty?” Veronica asked, tears forming in her eyes. “Let me back in.  _ Please, _ B.” 

 

The crack in Veronica’s voice triggered Betty to leap over the back of their couch, running to the raven-haired woman in a few long strides. She encased her friend with her arms, almost violently slinging them around Veronica’s body to wrap her in a hug. Betty slammed into the woman and they stumbled a bit as they caught their balance together. 

 

_ “You can tell me anything, Betty,” Veronica had said to her. Betty had randomly broken into tears overnight. They were clad in their pajamas. It was the second week of freshman year in college. “I’m here for you, no matter what. Even though we don’t really know each other yet… you can trust me. I’ll be here for you.”  _

 

_ Betty, sniffling and trying to stop the tears from flowing, looked up at Veronica with a surprised expression. No one had ever really cared like Veronica was caring. No one had ever found her crying in the bathroom in Riverdale High. Her parents had never cared when she cried herself to sleep some nights.  _

 

_ No one except Polly had.  _

 

_ Polly had found her multiple times in the Riverdale High bathrooms while they went to school together. She always knew when Betty was crying in her room, and not only because of the thin walls of the Cooper home. When she cried herself to sleep, Polly would usually come into her room and sleep next to her for support.  _

 

_ Veronica was pledging to be the shoulder that Betty had lost; the shoulder to cry on.  _

 

_ “Really?” Betty had asked weakly. “You’d do that? For me?”  _

 

_ “Of course, girl!” Veronica replied, putting a hand on Betty’s knee soothingly. “Isn’t that what roommates are for?”  _

 

_ With glassy eyes, Betty looked up and smiled at Veronica. She burst into tears again, letting herself collapse into Veronica’s welcoming arms. She held her new friend tightly, crying tears of joy that she had found someone she felt she could trust.  _

 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, V,” Betty kept mumbling as she held her best friend tightly. Veronica sighed and let her own tears flow into the blonde’s shoulder. 

 

“I forgive you, Betty. It’s okay.” 

 

“No, it’s not,” she argued, her voice cracking with emotion. 

 

“Yes. It is.” Veronica suddenly pulled away from the hug. “I didn’t mean to accuse you like that. I’m sorry. And… I overreacted. I was just hurt for a moment because you hadn’t told me.” She paused and Betty nodded, a stray tear rolling down her cheek. Veronica continued, whispering: “And I guess you got distracted last night…” 

 

Betty concealed a giggle as she brought Veronica into another tight hug. 

 

“Geez, B… you’re turning me into a sap,” Veronica joked, pulling away after savoring her friend’s hold for another moment. “But the only way that you’re going to get this entire house to forgive you is if you tell us what the hell happened. Are you okay? Is Jughead okay?” 

 

“I’m bruised from where Malachi threw me but I’m okay. A little sore, but okay. And as for Jughead… well, he was the one that fought him.” Betty started to turn towards where she expected Jughead to be standing. “Why don’t you tell them, Jug--” 

 

That was when she realized he wasn’t there. 

 

“Where’d he go?” Betty asked. She looked between her three best friends, but they all looked clueless. Before she knew it, Betty bounded towards her bedroom door. She almost kicked it open. 

 

“Jughead?” she called into the room. She even went and looked in the bathroom. “Juggie?” He wasn’t there. 

 

Betty bursted out of her own room and nearly sprinted across the penthouse to Jughead’s door. She knocked twice, knuckles rapping on the wood sharply. 

 

“Jug?” she asked, nearly terrified.  _ What could have made him run off without anyone noticing? _

 

There was no response. She was starting to panic.  _ Where the hell did he go? _ Betty quickly turned the handle of his door, entering the room fiercely. She was countered with the one and only Jughead Jones, pacing the floor of his room, looking as if he were going to rip his own hair out if he continued any longer. 

 

“Jug,” Betty said, shutting the door behind her and walking towards him. “Why’d you run off? You scared me--” 

 

He groaned, obviously frustrated at the situation. Betty knew it wasn’t at her, but it still hurt that he was even slightly angry. 

 

“Juggie, what’s wrong?” she asked, stepping closer. She tried to grab one of his hands, but he yanked his own out of her grasp. 

 

“No!” he said, stopping in his tracks and looking at her. Betty was appalled. If nothing caused her pain, that did. She couldn’t help but wonder what was going on inside his head to the tune of what happened on the street last night. Before she could think further, he answered. “I’m obviously bad for you, Betty. Can’t you see that?” 

 

“No, you’re not,” she replied caringly, reaching for his face. “You’re my boyfriend and I love you--” 

 

“Betty,” he said bluntly, taking her hands off of his face and gripping them in his own. “Stop.” He paused, looking into her eyes. “I’m not doing you any favors by sticking around.” 

 

That broke her heart. 

 

“Yes, you are,” she reassured, her voice trembling. Tears were pooling in her eyes as she ripped her hands from Jughead’s, cradling his face once more. “You’re more than a bodyguard to me, Jughead, and you know that.” She declared it strongly, even though her voice was faltering, and pulled Jughead’s forehead down as far as she could, raising herself onto her toes to make up for the difference. “I remember a time where I couldn’t bear to be in the same room as you.” 

 

“Is this supposed to be helping?” 

 

“Hush,” she interjected. “You have helped me  _ so much, _ Jughead. Even in those earlier days where I didn’t seem to want you around, you still helped me. So please,” she said, her strong facade and voice failing her now. Tears ran down her face. “Please tell me what’s terrorizing you, Jug.” 

 

His mouth went dry. He didn’t know what to say, and even if he did, he didn’t think he would actually be able to say anything. Here Betty was, bruised up her back because he couldn’t get to her before Malachi had, and asking more than one thing of him, spoken or unspoken. The first, evidently, was to stay. That was one of the unspoken pleas. She didn’t want him to go. The second was what was on his mind. The third and most daunting one was for him to take back what he’d said about not being good for her. 

 

Jughead Jones was resistant to many things… but Betty’s doll-like, jade eyes were not one of them. He sighed, averted his eyes as he blinked slowly, then brought his line of sight back to Betty’s. He saw her glistening, pleading eyes, and confessed. 

 

“My job is to keep you safe, Betty,” he whispered. “To protect you. To keep rabid fans and press people away from you.” She huffed out a laugh. “To keep bad people from getting too close to you.” She fell silent again. “I failed last night.” 

 

“No, you didn’t,” she mumbled, stroking his cheek. “I’m okay with setting a small part of the world on fire if it means the majority doesn’t burn at all.” 

 

“He threw you across the pavement!” he choked out. It wasn’t loud, but intensely whispered. He was close to tears, that much was obvious. “Part of me broke when that happened! You were ripped from my grasp!” Jughead’s tears began to flow, but it didn’t impede his speaking. “And the other part of me snapped, Betty. It was like I was another person. I wasn’t myself… I was  _ infuriated…”  _

 

Their heads were still pressed together, but Betty relented her grip on him just enough so he was slumped instead of hunched over. Jughead, in return, placed his hands on her waist, circling her with his arms and pulling their hips closer together. The blonde looked into his blue eyes, pleading for him to continue. 

 

“And I thought it was going to be mostly over when we’d gotten Malachi arrested, but now there’s a giant mob of reporters waiting for us to make statements on the video that they’re plastering everywhere...” He took a deep breath in. “God  _ damnit, _ I just wanted to protect you, Betts, and now all of these reporters are here for you and--” 

 

“Hey, shh…” Betty interrupted, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. “You’re rambling.” He nodded softly. 

 

“You won’t be able to leave the Pembrooke for a while,” he whispered. 

 

_ “We,” _ she corrected. “You were in that video too. They want a statement from you as well.” 

 

“That aside,” he said, looking more concerned than before. “Those reporters are advertising that we escaped into this building.” 

 

“What’s the problem with that?” 

 

“Your parents might be able to find you,” he added. Betty’s face dropped. “I don’t want them to have that power, Betts.” 

 

“Is--” she suddenly felt like her throat was swollen, like she wouldn’t be able to get a single word out. “Is that why you ran off like you did?” Betty had managed the one question. She didn’t think she could choke out another. 

 

Jughead simply looked into her eyes and nodded. 

 

“One of the reasons, yeah.” 

 

“I - I didn’t even think about that,” she muttered, letting herself out of Jughead’s grasp. He reached out to take her back into his arms, to soothe all her worries and tell her that it probably wasn’t even a possibility, but she slipped right through his hands. “You’re - you’re absolutely right.” 

 

“I didn’t really mean--” 

 

“They know where I’m living now.” She started pacing the room in front of Jughead as he watched stupidly, wondering how it could have come to this. “I’ll never be able to leave this building again.” 

 

“Betty, no--” 

 

They’ll come by just to give me a piece of their mind after they’ve had days to mull over what I’ve done and how angry they are with me.” She faced her eyes to the hardwood of Jughead’s room. “Every little thing they’re mad about, every personal vendetta they have, they’ll come here and find a way to pin it on me.” 

 

“Betts--” he tried to reach for her again, but she wouldn’t stop moving. Jughead could almost feel the tension she was creating for herself in her arms, her fingers trying to find something to do. 

 

“They’ll be all over me - again!” she rambled with a hint of anger in her voice. Her fingertips dangerously close to the scars that remained on the insides of her hands. “Just like high school!” 

 

And just like that, she snapped, fingernails retreating into skin.

 

“BETTY, STOP!” Jughead shouted, grabbing her shoulders swiftly and stepping in front of her. She ran into his chest, but neither of them faltered. 

 

When Betty came back to herself, she registered a sharp pain in her palms. 

 

_ “Ah,” _ she hissed, taking a sharp breath in. Jughead looked down and saw Betty’s balled fists. He took them tenderly in his hands and brought them between their bodies, her curled fingers facing up. She winced again and released a small whimper, barely audible. Jughead kissed the top of her head before going any further. He pushed his thumbs gently into her hands, prying her fingers away from the skin of her palms. He smoothed her fingers open, successfully making her hands relax so that her palms were exposed. 

 

The red was seeping into the curved indentations that had been made. When the small crescents were exposed to the rather chilly air of the room, Betty inhaled sharply again, allowing a tear to well up in her eye. 

 

“I didn’t mean to--” she began. 

 

“Shh…” he whispered. “It’s okay…” She whimpered again from the pain. “Are  _ you _ okay?” 

 

“I think so.” 

 

“Okay.” He kissed the top of her head again. “Let’s get you patched up.” She nodded, sniffling. One of his arms draped over her shoulders and the other kept her palms open as he turned them towards his bathroom. 

 

Before long, Jughead had seated Betty on his marble counter, her legs crossed at her ankles and the backs of her hands resting on the tops of her thighs. Jughead had pulled out his mediocre-at-best first aid kit and set it next to her before he started to tend to her. They were both silent as he did his work. 

 

He wet a washcloth with warm water first, cleaning her hands of the small droplets of blood. After drying her palms again, Jughead pulled out some antiseptic, taking a cotton ball to the crescent shapes. She whimpered at the contact, even though Jughead was being delicate in his approach (he couldn’t stop the chemical from hurting). 

 

“You’re okay,” he whispered, breaking the silence. She nodded softly, meeting his gaze. After another gentle swipe, he threw the cotton ball away before kissing her forehead. 

 

When he turned back to the kit to find some antibiotic ointment, Betty realized that he hadn’t once removed a hand from hers. It was in his caring nature, she assumed, that he didn’t lose contact with her after she had almost experienced an anxiety attack. He was currently rummaging through the kit with one hand, the other playing with her fingers. He hadn’t made a big deal about it, and that was probably the most endearing thing about it. 

 

He found what he was looking for, twisting off the cap with his teeth and holding it there while he made use of the small tube. He added a small amount to each little groove she’d made in her palms before putting away the ointment and placing both of his hands on her thighs. 

 

“I’m not done yet, but I just wanna say…” he began, looking her in the eye. “I’m sorry that I triggered you. I was just concerned and assuming the worst.” 

 

“It’s not your fault,” she replied softly, forgiving him. “I mean it. You didn’t mean to.” 

 

“I didn’t mean for my own anxieties to affect yours… And I’m sorry about all the things I said. I didn’t mean any of it. I was just being stupid.”

 

“It’s okay,” she replied softly.

 

“Thank you for bringing me back to my senses...” he said, pausing. “And I’m going to do all in my power to make sure that situation can’t become a reality. You don’t need that sort of negative energy in your life.” 

 

“Jug,” she replied endearingly, letting a troubled smile slip onto her face. “That’s why I love you so much.” 

 

“I love you too,” he whispered before connecting his lips with Betty’s in a soft, sweet kiss. When they pulled away, Jughead looked Betty in the eyes again, almost getting lost in the green of her irises. 

 

“I’ll get you wrapped up and then we probably have some explaining to do.” 

 

“Veronica sure is curious.” 

 

“She always is.”

 

“And so are Cheryl and Toni.” 

 

“Well I better hurry up then.” 

 

Betty giggled and Jughead smiled at the small happiness she radiated. 

 

**\---**

 

“So that’s it?” Cheryl asked. “You guys were just walking home and he snatched Betty away?” 

 

“And then the fight?” Toni added. 

 

“Yeah,” Betty replied. “It came out of nowhere.” 

 

“And now all of the press are here because they recognized you in the video?” Veronica inquired. 

 

“And because we accidentally led them here,” Jughead replied, his arm around Betty’s shoulders. “Sorry.” 

 

“It’s not your fault,” Toni said. “It’s not like you could have ditched them and looped back here. You were both injured.” Everyone nodded. “And now, several news stations are playing that video of you two and I’ve got a million emails from press people asking for a statement and generally probing.” 

 

“Sorry, T.” 

 

“I really don’t blame anyone for it, Betty, least of all the both of you,” she replied. “If there’s anyone I’m mad at, it’s the people looking for a break in the story and standing outside the building.” She took another sip of her scotch and coffee, wincing slightly at the burn of the alcohol. “Ideally, I should go out there and ask them to fuck off in the polite and publicist way of saying so, but I’m hungover and I’ve already had another drink.” 

 

“You’ve seriously poured, like, three shots of scotch in your coffee and it’s not even ten in the morning yet,” Veronica interrupted. 

 

“Well when the author you’re the publicist of magically shows up on TV, getting publicity for a street fight--” 

 

“Hey!” 

 

_ “No offense, Betty,” _ Toni quickly corrected herself. “The situation called for it, Veronica. I was surprised, I had a massive headache, and I needed something to take the edge off of the headline.” 

 

“Honestly, the reasoning makes sense,” Jughead added. 

 

“Jug!” Betty exclaimed, turning towards him. 

 

“What? She’s within her rights to pour liquor in her coffee. It’s been a stressful twelve hours.” 

 

“I’ll drink to that,” Toni replied with a smile, taking a long sip of her coffee. Everyone else (except Jughead, who was grinning) goaned in disapproval, rolling their eyes. Once they had all accepted the fact that the scotch and coffee was happening and there was nothing they could do to stop it, they were able to get back on track. 

 

“Okay, so are we making a statement or not?” Cheryl asked. 

 

“That’s up to Betty,” Toni said. “I never make statements unless Betty wants me to.” 

 

“If I was going to make a statement right now, I definitely wouldn’t choose Toni to say it,” the blonde replied. 

 

“Me neither,” Toni interjected. 

 

“Besides that, I want to make a statement to  _ not _ make a statement,” Betty said. 

 

“What the hell--” 

 

“She wants someone to say that she won’t comment on anything the press asks or says,” Toni translated. 

 

“And I definitely don’t want Toni going out there right now with her current state--” 

 

“I second.” 

 

“So I think… Ronnie? Are you up for it?” 

 

“Uh… sure…” she replied. “What do I do?” 

 

“Go out there looking all official-like with sunglasses and those two pieces of arm candy that work behind the desk,” Toni suggested. Cheryl hit her on the arm. “I’m bisexual, not lesbian, Cher. There’s a difference. And I love  _ you _ more than any airhead high school football player.” 

 

_ “Anyways,” _ Veronica interrupted, trying to get them all back on track and looking at the blonde author. “What do you want me to say, B?”

 

“I’ll write something down for you.” 

 

“Wait, do  _ I _ need to make a statement?” Jughead asked. 

 

“You don’t have to do shit,” Toni said. “Veronica can deliver her statement for Betty and add you to it--” 

 

“Which would confirm your relationship to the press,” Cheryl interrupted. 

 

“Or,” Toni continued. “You don’t have to say anything. Nobody has to say anything to the press. I imagine Betty is doing it because she’s much more in the public eye--” 

 

“Yep.” 

 

“But to most everyone else beyond this penthouse, you’re just her bodyguard or the person that fought off the other dude in the street fight,” Toni clarified. “You could be getting some publicity for that.” 

 

“Really?” he asked. 

 

“Yeah,” Cheryl agreed. “You and Betty might not be able to leave the Pembrooke for a while unless it’s seriously low-key.” 

 

“Looks like you’re working from home for a while, Betty,” Veronica said. “You should call McCoy or McCoy Junior and let them know.” 

 

“I will after I write what I want you to say to the press,” the blonde replied. She turned to her boyfriend. “Do you want in on mine or are you not going to make a statement?” 

 

“I think I’m going to exercise my right to remain the hell silent,” Jughead said. “I don’t really want to get caught up in this mess more than needed... as long as that’s okay with you, Betty.” He placed his hand on her knee, looking her in the eye and stroking her skin with his thumb. 

 

“Of course that’s okay, Juggie,” she assured him, stacking her hand on his. “But you’re gonna have to excuse me so I can go write this statement and so Toni can give Veronica tips on how to talk to the press--” Betty glared at Toni mockingly before adding bluntly: “So long as she’s sober enough.” 

 

Cheryl closed the gap between herself and the blonde, both going for a quick high five. 

 

“Hey!” Toni exclaimed, acting as if she were offended. “I will have you know that I have  _ finished _ this mug of coffee--” 

 

The petite woman was cut off by her girlfriend snatching the ceramic mug out of her hand. 

 

“I’m cutting you off, babe.” 

 

_ “Baaaaaaabe--” _

 

“Go help Veronica, TT!” The ginger told her with her back turned.

 

Toni grudgingly got up, leading Veronica to a more private space where they could talk about what Veronica needed to do on her behalf. 

 

“I hope you can make yourself busy while I draft up something for Veronica to say,” Betty said softly to Jughead, directing his attention back to her. 

 

“Well… there’s that video of us on the street last night, still being displayed as breaking news…” Betty chuckled before he continued. “And there’s also some Hemingway on this table--” 

 

Betty groaned in disapproval. 

 

“I know  _ you _ don’t like Hemingway, but let me enjoy it while my  _ favorite author _ is occupied.” 

 

“I’m your favorite author?” she asked, surprised. She found the statement seriously endearing. 

 

“You hadn’t figured that out yet--?” 

 

She cut him off with an abrupt kiss to the lips before pulling away again. 

 

“I love you,” she mumbled so only he could hear. 

 

“I love you too,” he replied, just as soft, then grabbed the book from the table. “Now go write that statement,  _ Virginia Woolf.” _

 

Betty giggled as she got up and nearly skipped to her room, glancing at him cheerfully one more time before she entered her room and closed the door behind her. Jughead smirked as he watched her disappear, choking out a single laugh before diving into his book. 

 

She was truly going to be the death of him. 

 

**\---**

 

Sooner rather than later, Betty reemerged from her room with a notecard in her hand, written in the blonde’s delicate handwriting. She crossed the penthouse to head towards where Veronica and Toni had gone (stopping only to leave a kiss on Jughead’s cheek and telling him she was about to call McCoy). Toni came back first, throwing herself onto the couch she’d been sitting on before leaving. Veronica was staring at Betty’s index card while she made her way to the elevator, suddenly fully dressed. 

 

“Good luck,” Toni called from the living room as the elevator doors closed in front of her. Without looking up, Veronica held up one hand as a wave goodbye and in acknowledgement of Toni’s statement. 

 

“Is Betty still on the phone with McCoy?” Jughead asked, his book on his lap. 

 

“I assume so,” Toni replied, sighing when she looked up at the TV.

 

The television was muted, but the same headline was still on the screen, moving back and forth between the video of the fight, the video of them getting away, and a reporter on the street. The one thing that didn’t change was the BREAKING NEWS reminder over the headline. Jughead sighed too before picking up his book again. 

 

It was a minute or two later when Toni grabbed his attention again. 

 

“Guys, it’s on!” She shouted, scrambling for the remote so much that she was only halfway on the couch by the time that she unmuted the TV. Veronica was walking out, Reggie Mantle and Archie Andrews flanking her. Cheryl emerged from the kitchen to sit next to Toni while all of the reporters’ microphones were almost shoved in Veronica’s face to prepare for what she was about to say. 

 

Archie and Reggie stood there, looking tough. Jughead almost laughed at them trying to keep straight faces. 

 

“On behalf of Miss Elizabeth Cooper and her literary and publicity team, Miss Cooper would like to thank you for the concern of her physical state. She would like you to know that she is mostly unharmed, and her injuries are very minor. Miss Cooper would like to add that though your concern for her well being is appreciated, she will  _ not  _ be answering any questions, or commenting on any media pertaining to the events of last night. That includes photos, videos, et cetera. Miss Cooper only requests that you will respect her right to privacy during this time. Thank you.” 

 

Just as Veronica was turning around to head back inside, a reporter caught her attention. 

 

“What about Miss Cooper’s protector?!” he shouted as a question. 

 

“If that member of Miss Cooper’s security team wishes to make a statement to the press, he will do so himself,” Veronica replied curtly, spinning back around with a small hair flip over her shoulder and being escorted back inside by Reggie and Archie. 

 

Several other reporters started asking questions frantically, but Veronica didn’t even glance back at the crowd before entering the Pembrooke. 

 

“Nice job, Veronica!” Cheryl cheered. “You’re a good coach, TT, obvi.” 

 

“She learned from the best,” Toni replied smugly as Cheryl kissed the top of her head. 

 

Before Jughead could comment as well, his phone started ringing. Looking at the caller ID, it was Detective Keller from the NYPD (he’d given Jughead his office phone number before he left the scene last night). 

 

“Sorry, guys, I gotta take this,” he said quickly, retreating into his room before answering the phone. 

 

“Hello?” 

 

_ “Forsythe Jones? This is Detective Tom Keller. We spoke last night?”  _

 

“Yes. That’s me. How can I help you?” 

 

_ “I need you and Elizabeth Cooper to come down to the station for more  _ detailed _ witness statements… And we had the understanding that Miss Cooper would prefer to give her more  _ lengthy _ statement this morning, so we’d like to get that as well.”  _

 

“Oh, yes. Of course. Elizabeth is on the phone with her employer right now, but we’ll be down to the station soon.” 

 

_ “As soon as you can would be great, thank you,” _ Keller replied. 

 

“No problem. See you then.” 

 

_ “Thank you. Goodbye.”  _ Detective Keller then hung up. 

 

Jughead turned off his phone as he left his room. He saw the four women of the house, sitting on the couches and laughing. To Jughead’s surprise, Veronica had kicked off her heels (probably Louboutins, but he had no idea), and Betty had clearly gotten off the phone with McCoy, Hot Dog snuggled into her side. 

 

Betty turned around when she heard his door open, and she immediately flashed him a smile, which he returned. 

 

“Hey, Jug,” she greeted. 

 

“How’d your call go with McCoy?” he asked. 

 

“I’m to be given two weeks to work from here because the press won’t let us out of the building without making a scene,” she replied with a smile on her face. “She was oddly lax about it, but said that she was seeing all of the press on the news and understood the situation-- though I still have to make every deadline. She made that  _ super _ clear.” 

 

“Well that’s good,” he said. “We need to go down to the police station, though. Are you up for that?” 

 

“Already?” she asked. “That was fast.” 

 

“I know. Detective Keller just called me,” he added. “But I have no idea how we’re going to get out of here.” 

 

**\---**

 

Turns out, it was a lot easier than Jughead thought. 

 

Toni offered up her car, which was parked in the garage under the Pembrooke. She threw him her keys and, being quite uncoordinated, Jughead nearly dropped them. 

 

He and Betty proceeded to get dressed more comfortably and inconspicuously, he in a t-shirt and jeans, her in jeans, a t-shirt, and a light grey hoodie. When she had Hot Dog on his leash and her sunglasses in her hand, they were ready to go. Betty and Jughead took the elevator down to the garage. 

 

While Jughead started up the car, Betty helped Hot Dog up into the backseat. He immediately laid down on the bench, keeping his eyes on the front windshield. Betty got in the passenger seat. 

 

“Ready?” Jughead asked. Betty put on her seat belt, then turned back to him with a nod. “Alright.” 

 

Before Jughead knew it, he was waving to Dilton Doiley, about to pull into the street. And Before he could even do that, Jughead saw many consecutive flashes coming from his right: where Betty was sitting. 

 

“Shit. Press people,” he growled. Betty turned her head. Gasping, she flipped up the hood on her jacket, scrambling over the center console and into the back seat of the car. 

 

“Drive, Jug!” she told him. “What are you waiting for--?!” she was cut off by her own squeal when Jughead hit the gas, turning the corner sharply. He heard a thud and a groan behind him as the paparazzi was trying to follow them. 

 

“Betty, are you okay?” he asked frantically, wanting to check on her but also needing to keep his eyes on the road. 

 

“I guess.” Her voice was muffled by the seats separating them. “I’m just laying on my back on the floorboards and -  _ OH _ my God--” 

 

“What’s going on?” he asked, stopping at the red light and turning around to see behind him. “Well  _ that’s _ something.” 

 

It really was. Betty was laying across the floorboards in the backseat, only her knees tucked up so they were pointing to the roof of the car. But more than that, Hot Dog had gotten off of the actual seats and was laying on Betty’s abdomen, looking up at Jughead happily. 

 

“You gonna be okay like that?” he asked, seeing that Betty had a hand over her eyes in embarrassment. 

 

“Just drive. I’ll be fine,” she replied, uncovering her face and using that hand to, instead, rub Hot Dog’s head. “He must have sensed the adrenaline and thought I was having a panic attack or something.” 

 

“Well you have fun with that,” Jughead chuckled, facing forward and beginning to drive again. 

 

_ “Thanks, _ Jug,” she replied sarcastically. He could feel Betty roll her eyes from behind him, and he laughed again. 

 

**\---**

 

After getting a very unwilling Hot Dog out of the backseat, Jughead was able to help Betty out. She was flustered and had dog hair all over her, but still seemed in rather good spirits. 

 

“I can’t really be mad at him,” she explained, Jughead’s hand in one of hers and Hot Dog’s leash in the other. “It’s his job.” 

 

They were greeted in the lobby by none other than Detective Keller himself. 

 

“Ms. Cooper, Mr. Jones - and who might this be?” he asked, looking at the attentive sheepdog. 

 

“He’s my therapy dog,” Betty replied. “I hope that’s alright. I pictured this could be potentially stressful.” 

 

“He is very welcome here, Ms. Cooper. And I hope to make this process less stressful than you imagine,” he greeted kindly. “If you’ll follow me, we’re just going to go down to my office.” 

 

He turned, leading the couple down the hallway until they came to a door with gold lettering:  **TOM KELLER, NYPD DETECTIVE** . He was unlocking his door when he turned to look at them. 

 

“I’ll take your statements one at a time,” he said. “Who’s first?” 

 

Jughead nudged Betty forward a little. 

 

“I’ll go,” she responded. 

 

“Excellent,” he replied kindly, opening the door for her. Keller watched Jughead take a seat in one of the armchairs outside the doorway. Closing the door behind him, he motioned for Betty to sit in the chair in front of his desk as he took the seat behind it. 

 

“Do you mind if I record?” he asked, opening a drawer and beginning to look for the recorder he knew was in his desk. 

 

“Not at all.” 

 

“Great.” Finally taking a hold of it, Detective Keller brought it to his desktop, placing it somewhat close to the edge of the desk. He also pulled out a pad of paper and a pen before hitting what Betty assumed was the record button on the device. 

 

“I’m just going to ask a few basic questions, and then we’ll get into the real questions.” 

 

Betty nodded. 

 

“Full name?” he began. 

 

“Elizabeth Victoria Cooper.” 

 

“Would you mind spelling that, just for the record?” 

 

She did so. 

 

“Age?” 

 

“22.” 

 

“Date of birth? The month and the day will work just fine.” 

 

“July 18th.” 

 

“Occupation?” 

 

“I write for the  _ New York Times _ and I also published a book on the side.” 

 

“So I hear,” he replied. “Bestselling author,” he added. 

 

_ Probably from Kevin, _ Betty thought. She simply nodded in response. 

 

“Alright, Ms. Cooper. I know that some of these questions may be a bit more heavy, but I need you to answer them as completely as you can.” 

 

Betty gulped away the lump in her throat and Hot Dog slipped his head into her hands. She started to play with his ears absentmindedly as she nodded to Detective Keller. 

 

“It has been made clear that you knew Malachi Gonzalez before your violent encounter with him last night, which provoked a fight between Mr. Forsythe Jones the Third and Mr. Gonzalez. Would you mind describing this previous relationship?” 

 

“Malachi and I dated for a small amount of time,” she began a little shakily. 

 

“How long?” 

 

“About five weeks or so.” Detective Keller signaled for her to continue. “We met in a Barnes and Noble after I’d finished a book signing. It was January of this past year. At the time, he lied about not having read my memoir, which was a no-holds-barred account of growing up with my emotionally abusive parents. Even so, things started out well between Malachi and I. 

 

“But two weeks after we met, he tried to pressure me into having sex,” she continued. “I refused, and though I admit that I should have seen that as a red flag, I stayed with him. Later, he started to pick at some of the insecurities that I highlighted in my book.” 

 

“What might those be?” he asked. 

 

“Perfectionism. Not being good enough. Feeling sub-par in comparison to others. I was suppressed by my parents where they held my older sister on a pedestal. Malachi used those to take advantage of me and to manipulate me, and later I realized that he was using the book that I wrote as a guide for that manipulation. 

 

“Not long after he began his manipulation, he tried to get me to move in with him. I didn’t, sensing something was off with our relationship, but we compromised because he wouldn’t drop the subject. I didn’t move in with him, but I moved closer to him and he knew where my new apartment was. He also tried to get me to cut out my best friends and literary team.” 

 

“May I have their names?” 

 

“Veronica Lodge, Cheryl Blossom, and Antoinette Topaz,” she answered. “They are my best friends and they are also my literary agent, stylist, and publicist respectively.” 

 

“Was there a turning point?” Detective Keller asked. “Something that made you try to distance yourself?”

 

“Yes. This past Valentine’s Day, Malachi invited me over for dinner, but I realized halfway through the meal that he’d only invited me over so that he could try to convince me to sleep with him again. When I denied him again, he gave me a black eye. After that, I left and called Veronica, telling her what happened. She grabbed Cheryl and Antoinette and we all started moving my things out of the apartment that night. 

 

“Veronica had been living with Cheryl and Antoinette after I’d moved out of the place I used to live with Veronica. Cheryl happened to have a spare room in the apartment she shared with my other friends, so we took all of my stuff there. 

 

“On February 16th, I went back to his apartment and broke up with Malachi. He didn’t like that. He tried to swing on me again but I dodged him and bolted. Later that day, he tried to get to me at the old apartment I had been in, but he quickly found out that I had finished moving all of my stuff out that morning. 

 

“On February 18th, I was walking home super late from my job at the  _ New York Times. _ I’d been finishing up the weekly column that I worked on with Kevin Keller. He hadn’t stayed late, but I did, determined to finish it.” 

 

“Do you have a specific time we can work with here?” 

 

“I think I left the building around 11:30 pm,” she answered. “I was walking home when I felt someone following me. I could feel their eyes on me, but whenever I turned around, there was no one there. I was getting closer and closer to the apartment when I passed a man on the street going the opposite direction. At the time, I didn’t know this, but I later found out that he was Forsythe Jones the Third. 

 

“Moments later, I turned around and saw a dark figure, like, two steps behind me,” Betty explained. “I knew it was Malachi in an instant. He pulled me into the alley close to Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe and he tried to rape me. I probably wouldn’t be alive today had Forsythe not been on the street at that late hour. He tackled Malachi, giving me a chance to run. I ran as fast as I could back to my apartment and locked the door behind me.” 

 

“This was the first encounter you had with him outside of your relationship?” Detective Keller asked delicately. 

 

Betty hadn’t realized that there were tears running down her cheeks, but she nodded and sniffled. 

 

“Yes. But there were more,” she replied. 

 

“More?” 

 

“Yes, but Malachi wasn’t able to actually touch me during most of those,” she replied. “Because Forsythe Jones the Third had been hired as my bodyguard.” 

 

“Please continue.” 

 

**\---**

 

Jughead was waiting outside Detective Keller’s door. He could only assume that he was asking Betty about all of her previous experiences with Malachi. He hoped she was okay. They had been in there for almost an hour and a half, and he was starting to get anxious. He was bouncing his knee, he’d checked his email one too many times, and he was close to chewing his nails off. 

 

Jughead was genuinely worried about Betty. He could only imagine how dense her statement must be with all of the history she had with Malachi, and he already knew how emotionally dense it would be for Betty to relive it all. He hoped she wasn’t pushing herself too hard to explain everything. 

 

Her story with Malachi had been months in the making. There hadn’t just been one encounter. And it wasn’t like Malachi’s attacks had been random. He believed it was the complete opposite. Jughead realized then that if Malachi didn’t plead guilty to the crimes that were sure to rack up against him, then it would be an exhausting, painful trial for them all. 

 

Just then, the door to Detective Keller’s office opened. Surprised, Jughead shot up out of his chair as he watched Betty and Hot Dog walk out of the room. There was a tissue or two balled up in Betty’s hand, but she seemed content. 

 

“You okay?” he asked her quietly. She nodded. 

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied with a small smile. “Happy we’re finally doing this.” She paused and looked at him when he nodded in agreement. “Go ahead. He’s waiting for you.” 

 

He nodded again, catching the door from her and letting it shut behind him before making his way over to the chair in front of Detective Keller’s desk. 

 

“Welcome, Mr. Jones. Do you mind if I record?” the detective asked. 

 

“I don’t,” he replied. Keller pressed a button on the recorder in front of him. 

 

“I’ll be asking a few personal questions before I get into the real ones.” 

 

Jughead nodded. 

 

“Full name?” 

 

“Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third.” 

 

“Would you mind spelling that for the record?” 

 

He did so. 

 

“Age?” 

 

“Twenty-three.” 

 

“Date of birth? Just the month and the day, please.” 

 

“October 2nd.” 

 

“Occupation?” 

 

“Lodge Industries Security at the Pembrooke. I am a bodyguard for Elizabeth Cooper.” 

 

“Alright, I will now begin with the more pressing questions,” Keller explained. Jughead nodded. “What was your first interaction with Ms. Cooper?” 

 

“It was February 18 and I was walking home from the Pembrooke pretty late at night, close to midnight, when I passed Elizabeth on the sidewalk. I didn’t know it was her at the time. At the beginning of April I met her officially, but in the moment, I didn’t know who she was. We passed each other, then not long after, I saw a man close behind her. 

 

“It was then that I realized something wasn’t right. I turned off the music that was playing in the headphones I was wearing. Not too long after, I heard what sounded like someone hitting garbage cans out of the way. I stopped and turned around, and I didn’t see Elizabeth or the man on the sidewalk. I had assumed they disappeared into an alley, so I ran over there. I saw the man trying to rape her, so I tackled him and held him down, which allowed Elizabeth to get away. I tried to follow her a moment later to make sure she was okay, but she’d bolted.” 

 

“When was the next time you saw Ms. Cooper?” 

 

“April 2nd, I believe,” Jughead replied. “That was when I met her officially because I was to become her bodyguard.” 

 

“Do you know who it was that had attacked her in the alley on February 18, Mr. Jones?” 

 

“Yes. Malachi Gonzalez. Elizabeth told me it was him, and I know because we encountered him several times after February 18.” 

 

“And you protected Ms. Cooper from him every time you encountered him?” 

 

“Yes. I kept him as far away as possible because I was her bodyguard.” 

 

“But when you first met Ms. Cooper, you weren’t there because you were her bodyguard.” 

 

“Yes. We were strangers at the time. It was a very odd coincidence that I became her bodyguard after. We didn’t even realize until a few weeks later that we’d seen each other that night.” 

 

“That sounds straight out of a book, Mr. Jones,” Keller joked. 

 

“Yeah, but it’s true,” Jughead added. 

 

“When was your next encounter with Malachi?” Detective Keller asked, getting back on track. 

 

**\---**

 

Over the next two weeks, Jughead and Betty spent their days at the penthouse while Cheryl, Toni, and Veronica all went to their jobs like usual. The press was still standing outside the Pembrooke’s lobby, anxious to see if they could catch a glimpse of the pair. To their chagrin, Betty and Jughead didn’t leave once. 

 

Betty had been consumed by work, even if it was online and she was working from the comfort of the penthouse. Jughead made it his job to make sure that Betty wasn’t completely smothered by all of the writing she was doing. He forced her to take breaks from the seriousness of it all, where they would watch a movie, read, or spend time together. A few times, Jughead had to distract her by removing her from her seat at the kitchen table, throwing her over his shoulder, and taking them to his bedroom. By the end, he made sure that the only word out of her mouth was  _ his name.  _

 

Betty wouldn’t tell Jughead what she was writing about for McCoy’s article. She only told him it was a topic that was important to her, and that she wouldn’t tell him any more about it for  _ good luck. _ She wanted that promotion more than anything else, and Jughead knew that, so he didn’t press any further. He allowed her to be superstitious for the sake of her sanity during that time. And she ended up turning in her article the day before it was due, which called for a celebration: they ended up in her bed. 

 

Veronica, Toni, Cheryl, and a few others had also been called in for witness statements by Detective Keller, just to confirm Betty and Jughead’s stories. The video released by the press was in the process of being treated as evidence, and after Betty had asked (by proxy) for privacy, the video was being shown less and less on the news. The press was starting to move on by the end of the two week period, but there were still a few determined ones standing around with cameras and microphones. 

 

Betty and Jughead had still been forced out of the penthouse for witness statements once or twice (they were asking for smaller details in the investigation, but still). Collecting evidence they could use against Malachi had become a rather lengthy process. Witness statements were taken, establishments were asked for any security footage they could muster, and Malachi’s apartment had been searched. 

 

They found  _ a lot _ of incriminating evidence during the second week. Most of Malachi’s attacks had been planned, the police discovered. If Malachi had been successful in his last attack on Betty and Jughead, he would have kidnapped Betty and left Jughead for dead. He had planned on asking for a ransom, which was equal to the amount of money Betty had made on book sales. By that point, Detective Keller and the rest of his team had enough evidence to send Malachi off to a real prison, where he would await trial (because he refused to admit his guilt) for several crimes. 

 

That was a hard pill to swallow for Betty, but Jughead helped her through the three days after, where she was still accepting the fact. She hadn’t been able to sleep the first two nights. Jughead and Hot Dog stayed up with her. She had nightmares. Jughead coaxed her through them. 

 

When Jughead had broken the news of Malachi’s former plans to Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni, they gave Betty her space at first, but once the blonde had mostly accepted the fact that she could have been kidnapped, they all started spending more time together. Veronica had invited Archie and Reggie up a few times for dinner so that Betty could get some other human interaction, but Reggie had to decline nearly every dinner because he’d been seeing Josie McCoy. 

 

Betty nearly had a spit take when she heard the news. 

 

“Holy shit!” she’d exclaimed after almost choking on her drink. “No wonder she’s been so bearable in her emails this week!” 

 

The next morning, after Jughead and Betty had finished watching  _ Mamma Mia! _ (because she wanted to), they had a rather serious conversation. 

 

Betty had an idea, and Jughead didn’t really like it, but she had justified reasons for it, so he caved. He still didn’t like the idea, even after he’d agreed to get her there, but that didn’t stop him from trying to help Betty to heal in the way she believed she needed to. 

 

**\---**

 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked after putting the car in park. “Like, are you  _ really _ sure about this?” 

 

“Jughead, we’ve been over this a million times,” Betty replied. “This is what’s best. I’m trying to move on from this horrible part of my life.” 

 

“Hey!” 

 

“And he horrible part has led me into the better part,” she replied, cupping his cheek with her hand. “I just need to do this so I can move on.” 

 

It had been two weeks since the street fight. The press was finally moving on, so Jughead figured it was time for them both to move on, just as Betty said. 

 

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.” 

 

They both got out of the car, Betty letting Hot Dog out of the backseat before walking around the car and taking Jughead’s hand. They walked towards the prison together in silence, their fingers interlocked. Jughead only dropped her hand when he held the door of the lobby open for Betty, letting her in first. They walked straight to the check-in desk. 

 

“Good morning,” the man behind the counter said. “Here to visit?” 

 

“Yes. Uh… Malachi Gonzalez.” 

 

“Name?” 

 

“Elizabeth Cooper.” 

 

“Is the dog a service dog?” 

 

“Yes,” Betty replied. “Therapy dog.” 

 

The man nodded, writing something down. 

 

“Sign here please,” he asked, sliding a clipboard to her. She read the document, then printed her name and signed. After handing the clipboard back to the man, he added, pointing at Jughead: “He’ll have to wait here.” 

 

“He will,” Betty replied. Jughead nodded. The guard handed Betty two visitors’ passes. 

 

“The extra is for the service dog,” the guy said. “Down the left hall.” 

 

“Thanks,” Betty said. The man nodded before turning away to file her paperwork. Betty turned back to Jughead after fastening her visitor’s pass. “You sure you’re going to be okay out here by yourself?” 

 

“Positive,” he replied as Betty clipped the other pass on Hot Dog’s collar. “So long as you’ll be okay in there by yourself.” 

 

“I can hold my own, Jones,” she replied playfully. “I love you.” 

 

“Love you too,” he said. “See you in a bit.” 

 

“Bye.” 

 

Betty turned away and started walking down the hall with Hot Dog next to her. She was taking deep breaths, one step at a time. The feeling of her blonde ponytail swooping back and forth behind her head was comforting. She met an attendant at a doorway, and after telling her who she was supposed to be meeting, the officer took Betty past all of the visiting booths and around the corner towards the maximum security cells. 

 

She saw the large panel of glass first, then the long, ominously-lit hallway with a single chair facing the pane of glass. The officer got Betty’s attention again before redirecting her to a male officer. 

 

“Thank you,” Betty said to the woman before she nodded and headed back to her post. The blonde took a few more steps and was confronted with the well-built officer (Betty didn’t usually notice how much muscle men had, but she was willing to bet that this man was two times the size of Archie or Reggie). 

 

“Who are you here to see?” he asked, a police baton in his hand. 

 

“Malachi Gonzalez,” she said. The officer started walking down the first hall that Betty had seen, and she followed him. He rapped on the glass with the baton. 

 

“Gonzalez!” he boomed. “Visitor!” 

 

He turned back to Betty before saying: “Right here, ma’am.” 

 

“Thank you.” 

 

“No problem,” he replied, walking out the way he came. Betty faced the glass, expressionless. 

 

She saw Malachi making his way over to where she was, his body covered by a grey jumpsuit. The look on the face was the same it always had been these days: menacing. He looked smug that she was here, that she’d come to see him. He sat down on the stool that he placed about three feet from the glass. Betty remained standing. Hot Dog started growling. 

 

“Hush,” Betty clipped to Hot Dog. He did, and sat next to her foot. 

 

“Well if it isn’t Elizabeth Cooper,” Malachi taunted. “Back for more after getting rid of the other guy?” 

 

“The  _ other guy _ happens to be just down the hall,” Betty replied. “He’d be happy to break that nose of yours again.” She noted the splint and the cuts on his face. 

 

“Cooper, Cooper, Cooper. Always the prude.” 

 

“Just to you.” 

 

“At least I don’t whore myself out to--” 

 

“Cut the shit,” she said. “I’m not here for the sexual harassment, so thanks for asking.” 

 

“Then why the hell are you here?” 

 

“I heard you’re not going to be pleading guilty to all of those crimes you committed against me,” she said. “And I wanted to let you know that the cops found all of the shit you’d been planning.” 

 

“You’re just now finding out about them? I knew days ago.” 

 

“I came to let you know that I won’t let the state prosecutor go easy on you,” Betty said, looking Malachi in his cold eyes. 

 

“Is that supposed to scare me, cupcake?” he asked mockingly. 

 

“Who’s the one in the jumpsuit right now?” Betty asked. She didn’t give him a chance to answer before she continued.  _ “You.  _ You’re locked away in this prison because of things that  _ you _ did to me.” She moved closer to the glass. “You have no power over me anymore,  _ cupcake,”  _ she mocked. “And I’ll be damned if I let what you did to me dictate my life.” 

 

Betty’s nose was nearly pressed against the window now. 

 

“I’m going to make sure you never get to see the light of day again,” she said softly. “You’re a monster.” 

 

“Yeah. And?” 

 

“You trying to goad yourself into a fight you can’t win?” Betty asked. 

 

“Touche, Cooper,” he added smugly, getting up and walking over to the window pane to face the strong blonde. “You’ll keep coming back. You always do.” 

 

“I  _ never _ did,” she spat. “You don’t frighten me.” 

 

“Last time I checked, I did,” he replied tauntingly, standing with his hand clasping his other behind his back. “What happened, doll?” 

 

“You don’t scare me,” she replied in a whisper, her eyes narrowed as she held herself strongly. “I’ve been through dark times. I’ve stared death in the face. You’re not it. That’s why you haven’t broken me.” She continued to look directly into his eyes as she spoke. “I know the scheme you were trying to run against me. So do the cops. So does my boyfriend. Out of the three, I’d say that the last one is the most likely to crush your skull.” She paused to let that statement soak in. “If you ever get out of here for whatever  _ idiotic reason… _ Watch. Your. Back.” 

 

Malachi, with a look of terror in his eyes, gulped and took a step back. 

 

“Is that a threat?” he asked with a gulp, a slight tremor in his voice. 

 

“Not unless you want it to be,  _ cupcake,” _ she taunted. “I’m in control now.” 

 

Betty turned to leave before facing him one more time. 

 

“You better hope you have a damn good lawyer,” she stated. “I’m going to rip you to shreds with my  _ bare hands _ if you make this bullshit go to trial _.”  _

 

“You’ll be back,” Malachi growled, trying to take back control of the situation. 

 

“Only in your nightmares,” she threw over her shoulder, walking out with Hot Dog at her ankles. 

 

And after that encounter, Malachi was  _ sure _ she’d be in his nightmares now. 

 

She’d left him completely powerless. 

 

**\---**

 

“So how’d it go?” Jughead asked as they walked back to their car. Their interlocked hands were swinging between them as he squeezed hers. 

 

“He tried his usual bullshit, but in the end…” Betty began, unable to finish the sentence. 

 

“In the end, what?” Jughead asked, stopping them. 

 

“Nothing,” she replied. “I think I’d rather leave that conversation in the past.” 

 

“Well in the name of moving on, I’ll allow it,” he said, kissing her temple. She giggled, and they kept walking. 

 

When Betty had gotten Hot Dog into the backseat, she grabbed Jughead’s hand and pulled him back. 

 

“Wait, I want to talk to you about something,” she said. He looked a little concerned, but curious. 

 

“What’s up, Betts?” he asked. 

 

“I just…” she trailed off. “I think I want to start seeing a therapist.” 

 

“Really?” he asked, letting a smile slip onto his face. 

 

“Yeah. Just with all of this terrible stuff that’s happened to me… I think it’s about time, you know?” 

 

Jughead didn’t respond, but he grabbed Betty around the waist and pulled her away from the car, spinning them around in circles in his fit of joy. With their combined laughter, they looked like idiots, he swinging her around in a prison parking lot, but they didn’t care. 

 

She was starting to take back her life, and he couldn’t be happier for her. 

 

Things were finally beginning to look up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10 will be followed by an epilogue, attached as part of a series. If you're reading this, thanks for making it on this journey with me. It's been extremely rewarding writing this story and I hope that the final chapter (and epilogue) are as satisfying for you as they are for me. You know how endings are. I hope mine isn't anticlimactic, but what is better than plotlines tying themselves in nice little bows?


	10. together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> together: into companionship or close association

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright... Here we go! 
> 
> It has seriously been an amazing journey in writing this story for you all to read and interact with. I never in my wildest dreams expected it to hit off so well within the fandom, and I'm so grateful for the support of those who read this, comment on this, give kudos, recommend this, etc. 
> 
> There will be an epilogue - see the end notes for information on how to keep track of when that comes out
> 
> Geez, what do you say before presenting a final chapter? I truly don't know. 
> 
> Have fun with all 32 pages! I hope it's as satisfying of an ending for you as it is for me.

_**July 1** _

 

It was the Monday after the prison visit when Betty and Jughead came back to the _New York Times._ Betty had just let Hot Dog off of his leash and the sheepdog was going to lay in the bed by the corner when Betty heard her name called.

 

“Betty!” Kevin exclaimed, getting up from his desk to go and hug her. 

 

“Hey, Kev!” she replied, patting him on the back twice before he let her go. 

 

“Where in God’s name have you _been?!”_ he asked. 

 

“On the news,” Jughead snarked. Kevin nearly snorted before Betty could properly respond. 

 

“McCoy gave me two weeks to work at home because of all of the press people that were standing outside our apartment building,” Betty added as Jughead fell into a chair. “I thought I told you.” 

 

“Well I remember seeing the headline but--” 

 

“Cooper!” McCoy shouted from outside their office. Kevin and Jughead jumped simultaneously. 

 

“Yes ma’am?” Betty asked, turning around to face the editor in chief calmly. 

 

“My office please,” she replied. Betty nodded as Sierra McCoy led them to the elevators, then up to the top floor. The blonde followed her into the office suite that had her name on the door. 

 

**SIERRA McCOY**

**EDITOR IN CHIEF**

**_NEW YORK TIMES_ **

 

Shutting the door behind them, McCoy motioned to the chair in front of her giant desk. Betty took a seat immediately and without question. The blonde realized that McCoy’s office could have fit three or four of Betty and Kevin’s in it. Intimidated by this, Betty focused her attention on McCoy when she sat in her large executive office chair. 

 

“Cooper,” McCoy addressed, pulling up something on her computer. 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“I read your submission for the promotion I offered you and a few other staff members,” she said without looking away from the computer. “I’m pulling it up right now, if you’ll excuse me.” 

 

“Of course,” Betty replied politely. 

 

“Here we are,” McCoy said after a moment. She finally looked at the blonde in front of her. “This was the best article written out of any of the other submissions.” 

 

“R-Really?” 

 

“Absolutely. In fact, I would like to offer you the promotion. _And_ I want to publish this.” 

 

“Y-You want to publish the article I wrote?” 

 

“Yes, Cooper, that’s what I just said.” 

 

“May I ask why?” 

 

McCoy sighed and took her hands away from the keyboard and mouse, bringing both arms up onto her desk. She bore down on her forearms as she leaned over to speak to Betty more directly. 

 

“You were the top of your class in high school _and_ at Riverdale University. Quite impressive. I read your application essay myself, and it was exemplary. At the time, I didn’t have a spot on my upper staff for you, which is where I’d wanted you. I knew you had talent,” McCoy added. “I didn’t really need to ask for another article from you because I knew how you wrote. I’ve read your memoir, for Pete’s sake.” 

 

“You read my book?” 

 

“Yes,” she replied. “The only reason it hasn’t been on the _New York Times’_ best selling list is because I didn’t want our competitors to think we were biased by putting one of our own writers on the list. Make sense?” Betty nodded. “I really didn’t need another article from you. I knew how you wrote, like I said. But this--” McCoy pointed to the computer screen. “--This is something else. Writing about your personal experience with parental abuse, and that following into your life away from those parents, is a topic we don’t print much. We don’t usually have too many writers that have dealt with that as much as you have highlighted in this article you’ve written for me.” 

 

“And so you want to publish the article?” 

 

“Precisely. And I want to offer you a position on my upper staff. I’ve been waiting for this opportunity for a while, so really, the pleasure’s all mine.” She paused, picking up after a beat and standing. “What do you say, Cooper?” 

 

Betty stood up, dumbstruck. She never imagined that she’d have this opportunity.

 

“Y-Yes!” Betty said with a hint of laughter in her voice. “Yes, of course!” McCoy extended her hand, and Betty shook it confidently. 

 

“Welcome to the team. You can start moving your things up today and you’ll have your first assignment by lunch.” 

 

“T-Thank you so much!”

 

_**July 12** _

 

“Dr. Glass said I’ve made a lot of progress within just the past three sessions,” Betty told Jughead in the elevator. His hand was in one of hers and Hot Dog’s leash was in the other. 

 

“And I am so proud,” Jughead replied, smiling. He leaned in for a short kiss just before the elevator dinged, announcing their arrival in the lobby. “I just need to drop off the movie we borrowed from Archie, then we’ll go to see your therapist.” 

 

Betty nodded as they three exited the elevator. She was looking at the ground as they first got off, but she felt Jughead stiffen and stop. Caught off guard, Betty was pulled back a little before she looked up and saw what had stopped her boyfriend. 

 

“We’re here to speak to our daughter. You can’t just refuse us that.” 

 

“Sir, like I said,” Archie was trying to explain to the man. “You’re not on the list of people that are allowed up to her apartment.” 

 

“What a pleasure,” Jughead spoke up, stepping in front of Betty and rolling his eyes. “Mr. and Mrs. Cooper.” 

 

“And who the hell are you?” Alice asked, turning around along with her husband when they heard Jughead speak to them. 

 

“Someone you do _not_ want to mess with,” Jughead replied. “I know more about you than you do about me, and I guess that’s a good thing.” 

 

“Well!” Alice exclaimed in disgust. “I guess that means you know our daughter and all the lies that misled little _brat_ has been spreading--” 

 

“Oh, shut the hell up, mom,” Betty said, trying to step out of Jughead’s shadow.  He allowed her to stand next to him, but he was still trying to be a buffer between her and her parents. “Just because you deny abusing me doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen.” 

 

“And that is _exactly_ what your mother is talking about,” Hal added. “It’s time to stop this foolishness. You’re coming home, Elizabeth.” 

 

“You hear that, Jug?” Betty asked, looking up at him. “We can go back to the penthouse.” 

 

“No, you’re coming with _us,”_ Alice added. “We’ve seen the commotion you caused in that _street fight.”_  

 

“You’re about a month too late to try to show concern for her, Mrs. Cooper,” Jughead said. 

 

“We also saw that article you wrote about us in the _New York Times._ We aren’t pleased,” Hal chimed in. 

 

“I bet _she_ wasn’t pleased when you did those things to her,” Jughead added. “And now that she got that promotion to be at the right hand of Sierra McCoy herself, she can publish whatever the hell she wants.”

 

“You’re making a mockery of us and yourself with all of these _lies—“_ Alice began, but her daughter cut her off.

 

“I’m not lying and you know it. Besides that, I’m not going _anywhere_ with you,” Betty scoffed. “And the fact that you don’t _know_ or even _care_ about what was _actually_ going on with the street fight is why.” She glanced over at Archie. “Call the police, Arch.” 

 

“You can’t do that, young lady,” Alice stated. 

 

“Yes, she can,” Jughead and Archie replied at the same time. 

 

“We have connections with the New York Police Department,” Betty said. “Get the hell out and I won’t have him make the call.” 

 

“You wouldn’t _dare,”_ Alice stated. 

 

“Yes. I would dare, mom,” Betty retorted, letting go of Jughead’s hand and stepping closer. “Don’t test me today.” 

 

The Coopers did nothing but step closer. 

 

“Archie, will you please escort Alice and Hal off the premises?” Betty asked. 

 

“Of course, Ms. Cooper. Anything for an _esteemed guest_ of Mr. Lodge,” Archie replied smugly, coming out from behind the counter and opening the front door for the Coopers to leave. 

 

“You should leave before you _really_ embarrass yourselves,” Betty said, her arms crossed. 

 

“Hmph,” Alice huffed, turning around. “Let’s go, Hal. We don’t need that twit in our lives anyway.” 

 

“Don’t bother coming back!” Betty shouted after them. “And don’t forget to let the door hit you on the way out!” 

 

When the Coopers were gone and Archie was back behind the desk, Jughead handed the DVD back to Archie before placing his hand on Betty’s shoulder. 

 

“You okay?” Jughead asked from behind her. 

 

“Yeah,” she sighed. “That felt good.” 

 

“Good, because that was awesome,” Jughead replied. Betty spun around and smiled. “Palms, please.” 

 

Betty held out her hands and Jughead saw that all that was there were healing scars. 

 

“Proud of you,” he muttered, kissing her forehead. “Now let’s go brag about it to your therapist.” 

 

She giggled as Jughead dragged her back into the elevator to go down to the garage. 

 

_**July 13** _

 

“They’re maddening,” Betty groaned from the couch. 

 

“Who?” Jughead asked. “Certainly you don’t mean Dumbledore.” They were watching _Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Pt. 2,_ and Jughead was making some more popcorn for them. Betty whipped her head around to face him. 

 

“My parents, Jug,” she replied. “I’m done with them, but they don’t seem to want to be done with me.” 

 

“Ah yes, you mean the people that came here yesterday, demanding you leave with them before you kicked them out,” he added, walking back to the couch with the refilled popcorn bowl in hand. “Those dumbasses?” Betty rolled her eyes and smiled a little. “You know I’m right, Betts, don’t deny it.” 

 

“Well, you aren’t wrong,” she replied, grabbing a handful of popcorn and snuggling back into his side after he sat down. “We need to do something about them.” 

 

“Well we could put up wanted posters like they did for Harry Potter, and Sirius Black before him,” Jughead said with a laugh, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth. 

 

“I’m serious, Jug!” Betty replied, hitting him in the chest playfully. He laughed again. 

 

“Well what do you suggest, Cooper?” Jughead asked. “And I don’t think another exposé in the _New York Times_ will get them to back off, no matter how much McCoy loves your writing.”

 

“Well, I’ve been talking to my therapist, and Dr. Glass seems to think that moving on is the best thing I can do right now. Cutting ties with toxic parents was pretty high up on one of the ways to keep with that process… And I was hoping you could help me Juggie,” Betty said, placing her hand on his thigh. Jughead looked into her eyes, and she was about ready to ask for some favor or something. 

 

“How may I assist you, Betty?” he asked teasingly, leaning towards her. 

 

“Dr. Glass thinks it’s a good idea to - and I think I’m ready for it too…” she rambled, not communicating the entirety of her idea. 

 

“What is it?” Jughead asked directly. Betty took a deep breath before answering. 

 

“I want to get a restraining order on my parents,” she said with a slight smile. _“And_ I want to sue them, too. For a _lot_ of money--” 

 

Jughead cut her off by grabbing her face and attaching his lips to hers soundly. He pulled away smiling. 

 

“So I’m guessing you like that idea?” Betty asked, on the verge of giggling. 

 

“I’m so happy that you’re ready to do that,” Jughead whispered, keeping his gaze steady with hers. Betty smiled wider, diving back in for another kiss. 

 

And eventually, they had to take what they had back to Betty’s room, leaving the Battle of Hogwarts playing on the TV.

 

_**July 18** _

 

“Jughead, seriously-- Wait, why did you stop?” 

 

“Because we’re finally here,” he said, putting the car in park and getting out. He went to the backseat and pulled out the picnic basket and blanket he brought with them. When Betty hadn’t gotten out of the car, he stopped. “Come on, Betty.” 

 

“What the hell are we even doing on the side of the road?” she asked. “And in upstate New York?” 

 

“I’ll show you, _birthday girl,_ if you get out of the damn car,” he replied. Betty rolled her eyes, sliding out of her seat and meeting Jughead on the other side. He offered his arm silently and she laced hers through his. “I almost thought we wouldn’t make it with all of the questions you were asking,” he said as they were walking up the hill. 

 

“I swear, if it’s a surprise party--” 

 

“It’s not a surprise party, I promise. But it is a surprise and I think you’re gonna like it.” 

 

They soon made it to the top of the grassy hill. There were a few trees behind them, but they didn’t block the view. Jughead had to physically turn Betty by her shoulders so she could see what he had waiting for her. It was almost sunset and they could both see the hills stretching out beyond and into the pinks, yellows, oranges, and slight purples of the  sunset. 

 

“It’s beautiful, Jug,” she whispered, turning to face him. He’d stretched the blanket out on the grass and was now laying on it. 

 

“Happy birthday, Betty,” he said with a smile. “Welcome to your new favorite date.” She giggled, taking a seat next to him. Jughead reached behind his back, pulling the picnic basket around to where he could get into it. He first pulled out a small fake candle. He flicked the switch on the bottom and the plastic flame lit up. He set it between them. 

 

“Very classy,” she replied with a smile. 

 

“Non-flammable. A date can’t go wrong when it can’t catch on fire,” he said smugly. She giggled again and laid back, facing him. 

 

“So, what’s for dinner?” she asked. 

 

“I am glad you inquired, Miss Cooper,” he said as if he were a waiter at a five star restaurant. “We have only the finest on the menu tonight for the finest woman in the entire universe.” She smiled wider at him, if that were even possible. Jughead opened the flaps of the picnic basket, pulling out utensils and napkins. “Only for you, Betty, did I hike across some obscure mountain range for this delectable--” 

 

“Jug,” she said, interrupting him. “Enough with the flattery. What did you get?” He pulled out a white paper bag with a distinct logo on it. Betty knew what it was in an instant and laughed. “All that… just so you could say you brought Pop’s,” she chided. 

 

“Do you want me to get you something else?” he asked. 

 

“God, no,” she replied. “You’re just dramatic… but I still love you.” Betty leaned over the picnic basket, kissing him soundly. She pulled away after a moment and sat down as Jughead started pulling burgers and fries out of the bag. “Are those gonna be cold? How did they survive the trip up here?” 

 

“I got an insulated picnic basket,” he told her, quickly putting down a burger because it was too hot for his fingers to hold it any longer. “Believe me, Betts, this stuff is piping hot.” She grabbed a fry and popped it into her mouth. 

 

“Okay, yeah. It is,” she agreed, the fry still in her mouth, before she swallowed it. “Please tell me you brought milkshakes too.” Jughead winked, pulling out a small cooler from the picnic basket. He popped the top off of it and pulled out two pale yellow Pop’s to-go cups, one marked with a J and the other with a B. “Don’t be cheesy and tell me that mine is birthday cake flavored,” she said as he passed her the cup. 

 

“Do you want me to take it back then?” he asked. She smiled and laughed, knowing that he _would_ be the one to do that for her. “I didn’t buy a cake, so that was as close as I could get.” 

 

“I was just joking, Juggie. It’s wonderful.” 

 

“Good, Pop made it just for you.” 

 

They ate their burgers and fries as the sun started to sink over the horizon. Betty couldn’t finish her fries, so she gave them to Jughead, who happily finished them in her name. They talked about everything and nothing at the same time. They stayed away from less jovial topics: the pending lawsuit and restraining order against her parents, how Malachi Gonzalez was still refusing to enter a plea of guilt in his court case, scheduled for the next April… Neither of them brought these topics up, and neither of them thought about them. 

 

The sun had almost disappeared over the horizon when they found a stable silence together, just looking at each other and enjoying the view. Jughead had an idea and got up. He hadn’t been planning on this, but they had time to kill. He took out his phone, finding a playlist he’d created just for their special date nights. He turned up the volume on his phone and the music started to play. 

 

“Jug?” Betty asked, sitting up. A soft, romantic song was filling the air as he held out his hand for her. 

 

“Wanna dance?” he asked. She smiled, getting up and taking his hand. His other hand found its home on the gentle curve of her waist and hers found his shoulder. They pulled each other close as they started to dance smoothly, like a late summer breeze blowing through one’s hair. 

 

Happiness like this had been prevalent in the last two, almost three, weeks. They were able to find more time to relax and be around each other than they ever had before in their relationship. Betty was going to therapy, and it was really helping her. Her job at the _New York Times_ was less stressful than before, even with the promotion. Betty was writing the articles she wanted to. Her book sales were still skyrocketing and she’d decided that she wanted to do a book tour across the country after the two legal battles she had were over (Veronica and Toni were working on the tour). 

 

Jughead was in awe of her strength. She’d been beaten down by so many people, but she just kept getting up. Now, she was taking her life into her own hands, making a stand for the better. She hadn’t had a nightmare in two weeks (some idiots with firecrackers on the Fourth of July made her wake up in a cold sweat, hyperventilating, but Jughead was able to calm her), and there were times like now, where Betty didn’t always need Hot Dog around to soothe her anxieties. She was learning to do it herself. 

 

Here she was, dancing with him in the thick green grass - to a love song of all things, and wearing a skirt that followed her every movement. She hadn’t seemed a freer soul before then. The chains that had kept her down for so long were vanishing, slowly but surely. 

 

Betty suddenly looked up with him as the last sliver of the sun was vanishing. He saw the bright green of her irises and his own blue reflected in them. Keeping a hand on her waist, Jughead cupped her face with his other hand and leaned in softly, kissing her slowly and deliberately. 

 

One of her hands came up to his, her delicate fingers wrapping around his wrist, keeping him there and keeping herself grounded to him. When they pulled back, the sun had gone down and the entire hill was drenched in blue moonlight. Jughead didn’t notice it: Betty was too distracting. 

 

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For bringing me up here… This is probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me.” 

 

“Do you remember that night that I came back to the penthouse hammered?” Jughead asked. She giggled softly and nodded. “That night, I remember telling you how I wanted to take you out dancing--” 

 

“And you did,” she interrupted. 

 

“And I did,” he agreed. “But I also remember a promise that I made to myself before I was even inside the Pembrooke… I looked up and I saw the stars… and then I made a promise to myself that I’d take you stargazing.” 

 

“Is that why we’re here?” Betty asked. 

 

“This hill has some of the best views in the state… of the sunset _and_ of the stars… and I want you to see it all,” he whispered, letting her step out of his arms. 

 

She looked up at the dark sky, seeing a litter of bright stars above her, even more than you could see from the New York City streets. He simply watched the reaction on her face. 

 

“Oh, Jughead,” she sighed, looking back at him. “This is amazing…” Jughead started to direct them back to the blanket and they both sat, then laid back and looked up. They were silent for a while, just taking it all in. Then Jughead spoke up. 

 

“If I owned every one of these stars, Betty,” he whispered, “I’d give them all to you… because you deserve them… because I’d want you to have them… because I know you’d take care of them like you take care of those around you… You wouldn't keep them captive,” he added, rolling over to face her. “They’d be captivated by you.” He brushed a blonde curl of hair behind her ear and let his fingers linger on her face. She tilted her chin towards him. “I love you, Betty Cooper,” he said softly. “I love you so much.” 

 

She smiled, her eyes getting brighter as the sky got darker. 

 

“I love you too, Jughead,” she whispered. “I can’t truly put it into words how much I love you.” 

 

Before they both knew it, Jughead’s palms were framing Betty’s face as she crawled over to him. He laid back, watching as she slung a leg over his hips and leaned down, hovering over him. She captured his face in both hands, bringing his lips to hers in a hungry kiss filled with warmth. His hands moved to her hips, splaying his fingers so he could take in as much of her as he could and pushing up her skirt so he could solidify his hands on her soft skin. She deepened the kiss, pulling them both upright so that she was sitting in his lap. She abruptly pulled away from his lips and attached them to the skin of his neck, kissing up his jaw tenderly. It drove him wild. 

 

Jughead thought he had asthma for a moment because he couldn’t seem to catch his breath before remembering one more thing. 

 

“Wait, wait, wait… Betty--” he whispered. She pulled away, her lips almost looking bee-stung from the way he had been kissing her. 

 

“What is it, Jughead?” she asked, evidently a bit concerned. 

 

“There’s just one more thing I have for you if you want it,” he said. She nodded to him, nonverbally saying that he could get what he needed to. He wrapped an arm around her body, keeping her close to his chest, as his other hand grabbed the picnic basket from the other side of the blanket, looking through everything before finding what he wanted. “Here we are.” 

 

Jughead pulled out a brightly wrapped rectangular item and handed it to Betty. 

 

“Go ahead,” he encouraged. “Open it.” She giggled before starting to peel the wrapping paper off. Jughead collected all of the paper, placing it in the picnic basket so they could throw it away later. When she finally realized what it was, she gasped. 

 

“Juggie!” she exclaimed. “Oh, I can’t believe it! You went and bought this? For me?” 

 

“Of course,” he replied. “I know Toni Morrison is your favorite author because you told me so when we were becoming friends… and you’re _my_ favorite author… so I thought it’d be a good present.” 

 

“You didn’t have to--” 

 

“Of course I did,” he told her. “You needed a new read, or at least that’s what you said last week.” 

 

“Seriously, Jug--” 

 

“You’re acting like this is some expensive piece of jewelry or something,” he scoffed playfully. “This book cost about twelve dollars. Can’t I buy something for my girlfriend every once in a while?” 

 

“Thank you, Juggie,” she replied, looking down at the paperback book in her hands. 

 

“This was the only Toni Morrison book I read in high school,” he said. “And I have a feeling you’ll like it.” 

 

She giggled brightly, letting the book flop to the side as she nearly tackled Jughead to the ground, kissing him once again. 

 

At one point, Jughead suggested going back to the car for what happened next, but she refused, wanting him under the bright stars and dark sky. 

 

And in all of the happiness and surprises, Betty missed the inscription he wrote her. 

 

**_Beloved_ **

**by Toni Morrison**

 

_Happy 23rd Birthday, Betts_

_Thanks for introducing me to your favorite author._

_Morrison can’t change the fact that you’re still my favorite._

_I love you now and forever, my beloved._

_Jughead_

 

_**October 12** _

 

“In the case of _Cooper v. Cooper,_ I rule that the plaintiff is entitled to all monetary compensation that she has asked for. Seeing as she has won that case with the evidence presented, I also entitle Ms. Cooper to the restraining order she has requested against the defendants. This court is now dismissed.” The judge’s gavel resounded in the large courtroom and the Coopers were immediately escorted out and away from Betty. 

 

Jughead almost leapt over the fence separating the plaintiff’s table from the audience, but before he could do that, she ran through the gates and into his arms. They hugged each other tightly, and they were lucky that they hadn’t broken each others’ bones. When they finally let go of each other, Betty turned to Mrs. Weiss, her lawyer, shaking her hand and thanking her profusely. The lawyer simply replied that the pleasure had been all hers. 

 

Betty turned back to Jughead, hugging him tightly again with a large grin on her face. 

 

“You did it, Betts,” he replied happily. 

 

“Yeah,” she said, letting go and looking up at him. “I did.” 

 

Before he could say anything else, Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni almost tackled Betty in hugs from all angles. 

 

“Congrats, girl!” Veronica squealed. 

 

“We’re so happy for you, Betty,” Toni added. 

 

“I’m so happy to see my favorite author getting the justice she deserves!” Cheryl said jubilantly. 

 

“Thanks, guys,” Betty replied, smiling at them as they released her. “Let’s go home.” 

 

Veronica and Cheryl linked their arms with Betty on either side of her, Toni hanging on Cheryl’s alternate side as they all made their way out of the courtroom and outside. Jughead hung back with Archie, who had initially come with Veronica for emotional support and was happy to see that Betty was finally getting some distance from her parents. 

 

“It’s what she deserves, you know?” Archie said to him as they stepped into the crisp New York City air. “She’s such a nice person and she’s a really good friend to Veronica.” 

 

“Yeah. Betty deserves this,” Jughead replied, seeing that the women had waited for them to emerge. 

 

“There’s your dashing men,” Cheryl said to Veronica and Betty. The two security guards _were_ dashing, there was no getting around that. In their sleek black suits, they looked quite handsome. 

 

“Oh, hush, Cheryl,” Veronica said to the ginger-haired woman. Betty and Jughead rolled their eyes at the “strictly platonic relationship” beside them, as Veronica had informed them the day before. Betty linked her arm in Jughead’s as they began to descend the steps of the courthouse, their friends behind them. Jughead silently offered to take Hot Dog’s leash from Betty and she obliged with a smile. 

 

They made their way past the annoying reporters who were still trying to pry into Betty’s private life. Jughead had one arm wrapped around the blonde and the other was holding Hot Dog’s leash and simultaneously clearing the way. Once they were past the cameras, Jughead let go of Betty and let his arm link with hers once more. 

 

“I’m so proud of you, Betts,” he told her and she smiled up at him. “I love you.” 

 

“I love you too,” she replied as he leaned down for a swift peck to her lips. 

 

She was giggling with happiness when there was a solid _yank_ from Betty’s side. Jughead turned to see Betty being pulled out of his grasp by none other than an angry Alice Cooper, her husband fuming behind her. Jughead tried to reach for Betty as she was pulled away, but her hand slipped through his fingers. Hot Dog was growling from Jughead’s other side, but he kept a firm hold on the therapy dog’s leash. 

 

What was more shocking than the sudden action by the older woman was that Betty didn’t look distressed at all. She held up a hand behind her for Jughead not to intervene. Betty simply planted her feet on the cement and tore her wrist from Alice Cooper’s death grip. 

 

“How _dare--”_  

 

“Shut the hell up,” Betty growled, glaring at Alice and making her mother cower. “You don’t get to touch me anymore. You don’t get to come and find me and try to take me _anywhere_ anymore.” 

 

“You don’t--” 

 

“Does your joke of a lawyer need to inform you what a restraining order all about? I would, but I have better shit to do,” Betty barked, evidently sending a chill down her mother’s spine. Alice gulped as Hal continued to blow smoke out of his ears, boiling with anger. “Get it into that thick, _lousy_ skull of yours… I will _never_ see you again. I never _want_ to see you again. And if you so much as _dare_ to put a _finger_ on me--” Betty threatened, pointing and pushing her forefinger towards her mother, “--I will end you. I will have my entire security team find and imprison you.” Betty was nearly towering over her mother. “Do _not_ push me. Ever.” 

 

“You’ll regret this,” Alice whispered, trying to gain control over the situation and successfully grabbing Betty’s wrist again. The blonde chuckled darkly and ripped her hand from Mrs. Cooper’s grasp once more.

 

“Get away from me, Alice,” Betty snapped menacingly. “I’ll be waiting on your check.” 

 

She turned around and saw Hot Dog standing next to Jughead, who looked almost shocked at what he had witnessed. 

 

“Let’s go,” she said to him, taking his free hand. Jughead and Hot Dog followed her lead after turning to see Alice and Hal Cooper getting into their car and driving away. Jughead stepped up to walk even with her after he snapped out of his daze, the sheepdog following at his ankles. 

 

“Betts, babe… That was the most _awesome_ thing I have ever seen,” he said to her. Betty blushed and smiled up at him. 

 

“That felt good,” she replied, squeezing Jughead’s hand as they made their way over to their car. They saw that Toni and Cheryl were a few steps away from Veronica and Archie, who were bickering over something. 

 

“You said you were gonna tell them, Ronnie--” 

 

“I was going to, I just--” 

 

“Hey!” Jughead shouted, getting their attention as Betty took Hot Dog’s leash from him. “What the hell is going on?” 

 

“Yeah, my parents try to steal me away again and you two are here arguing--” 

 

“Ugh,” Cheryl groaned dramatically towards Veronica and Archie. “It’s so obvious, guys. You’ve been denying it for months, just put it out in the open so you can stop trying to hide it.” 

 

“Ditto,” Toni chimed in, crossing her arms. Veronica sighed. 

 

“Veronica and I are in a relationship!” Archie blurted out before Veronica could stop him. 

 

“Finally,” Cheryl groaned again. 

 

“V! Oh, that’s amazing for you two!” Betty exclaimed, almost jumping into Veronica’s arms for a hug. 

 

“Really?” Veronica asked as Betty let go of her best friend, going to stand back by Jughead. “You’re okay with me dating your boyfriend’s best friend?” 

 

“Why wouldn’t I be, Ronnie?” Betty asked. 

 

“Veronica just thinks it’s weird her best friend is dating my best friend,” Archie said. “My best friend’s girlfriend is my girlfriend’s best friend.” 

 

“We just thought--” 

 

 _“Ronnie_ just thought--” 

 

“Yes. Thank you, _Archibald,”_ Veronica sassed. “I just didn’t know if you’d approve, B… and with all of the drama you were surrounded by--” 

 

“Don’t worry about me when you’re looking at a relationship for yourself, V,” Betty said. “I’ll still be happy for you, no matter how miserable I am.” 

 

“Thanks, Betty,” Veronica replied, taking and squeezing Betty’s hand lovingly. 

 

“So…” Archie said nervously. “Jug?” 

 

“Are you about to ask me if I approve?” Jughead asked. Archie nodded and Jughead sighed in response, pulling Betty into his side. “Look, Arch. If living with Betty and Toni and Cheryl and Veronica has taught me anything, it’s that Veronica is willing to set fire to a forest if a single _shrub_ were to offend you.” 

 

“I like that analogy,” Toni piped in. Betty nodded with her. 

 

 _“Anyways,”_ Jughead continued, “I can think of no better woman to keep you on the right track than Veronica Lodge, Archie.” 

 

“That’s nice of you to say, Jughead,” Veronica replied. 

 

“Well, truth be told, Archie would be better off _with_ you than _without_ you,” Jughead added. “For example, Archie once liked to play this game called Gry--” 

 

“Okay, that’s enough, Jug,” Archie replied. “I don’t think now is the time for--” 

 

“Oh, I think now is the _perfect_ time for this,” Veronica interrupted. “Please continue, Jughead.” 

 

“Archie was suuuper into this game called Gryphons and Gargoyles in high school--” 

 

“You were the one that got us into it in the first place!” Archie shouted over him. 

 

“That doesn’t matter right now…” Jughead said. “Anyways, Archie made us all call him _the Red Paladin_ for two weeks.” 

 

 _“Us?”_ Cheryl asked. “Who all was _us?”_  

 

“It was Archie, Reggie, and I. It was so lame,” Jughead laughed. 

 

“Reggie was in on it too?” Toni asked. 

 

“Oh yeah,” Jughead affirmed. “How about we get in the car and I can tell you more about the adventures of the Hellcaster called Crown, the Red Paladin, and Reginald the Righteous Bulldog.” 

 

Betty nearly snorted as Jughead opened the car door for her and Hot Dog. 

 

_**November 29** _

 

“This…” Jughead began. “This isn’t the way we came up here two days ago, Betts.” 

 

He realized that they weren’t headed towards New York City, like he thought they were. It was the day after Thanksgiving and they were supposed to be going home after they paid a visit to the Jones residence in Seaside. 

 

Betty had made quite an impression on the Joneses. Betty and his sister got along well. Jellybean made a habit of clipping Jughead on the shoulder whenever he saw them together and reminding him subtly and teasingly that she _had never in her wildest dreams expected him to ever find someone._ They were siblings… so he playfully shoved her every time she brought it up (she was also a year away from being able to go to college). His dad, now the county sheriff, had told Betty that she could come back with or without Jughead. Gladys has promised Betty that she was welcome anytime and had treated her like another daughter, despite being completely in the dark about Betty’s actual familial status.

 

Jughead was thinking about all of this when he realized they weren’t on the same road that took them to the city; they were headed somewhere else with Betty behind the wheel. 

 

“I know,” she replied, smiling. “But where we’re going is very important so just do me a quick favor and hush for just a little bit longer. I’ll answer all of your questions when we get there.” 

 

Jughead nodded in understanding, looking out the passenger window and watching the trees go by. Soon, the trees cleared immediately and Jughead saw what he knew to be Sweetwater River. He realized Betty was driving them over Sweetwater Bridge, then that they were entering Riverdale when he saw the sign. 

 

**Welcome to Riverdale**

**The “Town With Pep!”**

 

Jughead didn’t ask any questions, as Betty had asked him to be quiet. He was wondering if they were going to see Polly again, but Betty hadn’t brought any lilies, so that was out. Maybe she was visiting a friend, though she seemed to cut most ties to her hometown after she left, and she never spoke of any lasting friendships in high school. And he could already rule out visiting her parents. 

 

Ever since the restraining order and lawsuit, Betty knew that the publicly embarrassed Coopers would never be keen to see Betty again. They were sending their payments to Betty, just as she was owed according to the judge. Betty didn’t want to show him how much money each payment had been so far, but she told him it was a lot. The Coopers hadn’t shown up or made a stink in over a month, but that didn’t and would never get Betty to even think about forgiving them, much less render a visit. 

 

Still, Betty had something she wanted to show him, so he kept his mouth shut as she drove them through the calm streets of her hometown. She did slow to show him a building that had once been marked “Pop’s” and was now being used as a 50’s era car show destination and soda fountain. Jughead had to smile when Betty told him it was run by Pop Tate’s grandson. 

 

He looked at the blonde when she pulled into a suburban part of Riverdale: Elm Street. She was driving slowly and starting to slow more as they passed nice homes, some with white picket fences and some without. Eventually, Betty stopped the car and put it in park, looking out the driver side window with a sigh. Jughead noticed that, taking her hand in his. 

 

“Betty?” He asked. She looked over at him, her green irises swirling with green. 

 

“You probably already guessed where we are,” she said softly. Betty let go of his hand suddenly, taking off her seatbelt. “Come on.” She got out of the car, and Jughead found himself doing the same, walking around to her on the driver’s side and taking her hand because he could sense her slight anxiousness. 

 

He thought something about the house they were looking up at seemed familiar: the white picket fence, the coat of white paint against the house, the black paint of the shudders on either side of each window… and the bright red door with a gold brass knocker and numbers. He thought he had seen the door before, but he couldn’t place it. Jughead didn’t want to assume anything. He was waiting for Betty to say it. 

 

They stood there for a few seconds as Jughead took in the surrounding area coated in a light blanket of snow and the expression on Betty’s face. She looked indifferent, but there was a lilt of reminiscing in the way she was looking at the house in front of them. 

 

“Where are we?” Jughead asked tenderly. 

 

“This… is my childhood home,” she admitted. It was then that he noticed the real estate sign in the yard, partially obstructed by a single red block with white letters spelling out: **SOLD** on the sign. “You probably recognized the door from my book cover.” 

 

“Your parents sold it,” Jughead whispered. She shook her head and finally looked at him. 

 

“No,” she said. “They didn’t.” 

 

“It says it right there--” 

 

“The Bank of Riverdale sold it,” Betty interrupted. 

 

“Your parents lost their house?” Jughead asked. Betty nodded. 

 

“After the trial, there was an article published in the _Blue and Gold,_ Riverdale High’s newspaper,” she began to explain. “It was about the lawsuit and restraining order I’d filed against my parents. The teenager outed them in the paper, exposing everything that went on in the trial. Their abuse… harassment towards me…” She took a shaky breath as she continued. “Everyone in town was very unhappy about what they’d done to me… and everyone knew who I was and what I was like, so they defended me _and_ the teen that wrote about the case.” 

 

“What does that have to do with the house?” Jughead asked. 

 

“With the large payments that I am entitled to as the judge ruled, my parents couldn’t afford to live here anymore,” Betty clarified. “The house was put in the hands of the Bank of Riverdale. My parents were driven out of town because no one would help them after the article by that teenager combined with the book that I wrote…” 

 

“Where are they now?” 

 

“A local family, the Buttons, tell me that they went to Canada for a fresh start,” Betty added. “When they were leaving, Mrs. Button made sure to go up to my parents and told them to never come back to Riverdale… I don’t think they’re planning on coming back. Ever.” 

 

“So…” Jughead began. “Your parents are almost broke and far away, their old house was sold by the bank, and everyone in Riverdale likes you so much that they drove your parents away?” 

 

“Yes,” Betty replied. “And they made sure nobody else bought the house.” 

 

“It says that it was sold, though,” Jughead said. 

 

“Yeah. It was… To me.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“I bought this house,” Betty said. “No one in Riverdale would let anyone else buy it because they wanted _me_ to have it.” 

 

“Y-You bought this house?” Jughead asked, stupefied. “After all of the terrible things that happened to you in it? And with what money?” 

 

“My book sales are going through the roof, Jughead,” she said. “Just as they always have been. Plus the payments that my parents are making are contributing to that. They already paid the mortgage and everything.” 

 

“You certainly don’t mean to say that you’re going to keep this house where you were traumatized by your parents,” Jughead told her. 

 

“Oh. No. Of course not,” Betty said. Jughead sighed in relief. “I’m going to have it torn down and we’re going to build a new house on top of it.” 

 

“What?” he asked. “We?” 

 

“Yeah, we,” she repeated. “I was thinking that if we ever wanted to get away for a weekend… Once the house is rebuilt, we could come up here to relax.” Jughead was stunned. “Riverdale is a quiet town, unlike New York City. There’s _one_ newspaper, which used to be owned by my parents and which _also_ now belongs to me, the soda fountain that the Tate grandson is running. There’s a drive in movie theater down the street and a regular movie theater for when it gets too cold...” She trailed off. “And also… Polly’s here.” 

 

Jughead allowed himself to soak in everything. In New York, he knew that there wasn’t a moment in the city where the streets were without cars. He couldn’t hear a single engine running while standing on Elm Street. Riverdale was certainly closer to his family than New York City as well. He just hadn’t imagined that his girlfriend would purchase a house and a newspaper out of the blue. Beyond that… her sister was in the cemetery that Jughead knew was just down the street and around another corner. He looked at her, still processing everything, but he knew one thing: he couldn’t deny Betty this. He couldn’t deny her a part of her home, even if she was going to tear down her old house and start something new from it (it was probably quite therapeutic for her to quite literally start anew).

 

“I think this is wonderful, Betts,” Jughead said softly. 

 

“Yeah?” she replied. 

 

“Of course,” he added. “This place is great for a week - or even just a weekend - away. There’s not too much press… and I know you’ll never be able to part with Riverdale because of your sister, and that’s okay.” She smiled at him, biting her lip gently. “And we could come up and stay for a day or two every year on Polly’s memorial day because I know that’s important to--” 

 

Jughead was cut off by Betty jumping towards him and crashing their lips together. Her arms wrapped around his neck and his circled her waist, shuffling her closer involuntarily. When Betty pulled back to look at him, she had a smile on her face. 

 

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For understanding why.” 

 

“Of course I understand why,” he muttered. “This is your home. It will always be your home.” 

 

“No,” Betty replied. “My home is with you. Wherever you are, that’s my home.” 

 

Jughead kissed her again, their lips connecting softly before he pulled away again. 

 

“So… When’s it getting torn down?” 

 

“Tomorrow,” she replied. 

 

“Oh.” He wasn’t expecting that quick of a turnaround. 

 

“I wanted you to see it before then,” she said. “I think you seeing it first is very important if this is to continue.”

 

 _“As_ this continues,” he corrected. “There is no _if_ for me.” 

 

They kissed again, and that time, it lasted much longer before they pulled away from each other, then before they pulled out of Riverdale. 

 

_**April 10, the next year** _

 

She sat in the semi-uncomfortable courtroom chair once again, but this time, she was on the alternate side of the dividing fence. She sat behind the state attorney and between Hot Dog and Jughead, anxiously awaiting the trial to begin. 

 

Jughead, sensing that Betty’s fingers were about to curl back into her palms after months and months of not doing so, grabbed her hand (that wasn’t grasping Hot Dog’s leash), interlocking their fingers and squeezing her hand lovingly. Betty immediately looked up at him. 

 

“You ready to run this guy into the ground?” Jughead asked, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles. 

 

With that single statement, everything that had happened since the past November came back to her. Toni and Cheryl had gotten engaged and moved to the 11th floor penthouse under them. Archie and Veronica had continued their relationship and Veronica had moved out soon after Cheryl and Toni did; relocating to the 12th floor penthouse of the Pembrooke where she now lived with Archie. 

 

Betty and Jughead had the 14th floor to themselves, which meant that Betty could stay up as long as she wanted to look over case files (which she insisted she have a copy of as they were going into the trial). That was, of course, unless Jughead dragged her to bed and made her go to sleep so that she’d be okay for the beginning of the trial. 

 

That had only been last night, and it still looked as if _The State of New York v. Gonzalez_ was going to go on much longer than she wanted it to. If Malachi would just submit a plea of guilt, everything could be thrown in the trash. She wouldn’t have to sit through weeks and weeks of reliving her terrible past relationship. 

 

But when Jughead kissed her knuckles and asked her if she was ready to bash Malachi’s head in (figuratively) with the weight of all of the evidence on the prosecution’s side, Betty knew it would all be okay whether Malachi told the judge he was guilty or not. 

 

“Yeah,” she whispered and nodded. “I think I am.” 

 

“Good,” he replied. “Because that’s exactly what we’re gonna do.” 

 

Before they knew it, the judge had entered the chamber and so had Malachi. He was sitting next to his attorney and hadn’t even glanced in Betty’s direction. The blonde was keeping herself calm, using the breathing techniques Dr. Glass had taught her before the trial against her parents and the same ones that they’d gone over the previous day. 

 

 _In. Out. Nice and slow._ Dr. Glass’ words rang in her head as she kept her eyes locked on the judge, waiting for him to call Malachi up to enter his plea. As if a genie had snapped his fingers, Malachi and his head attorney - Penny Peabody, if she remembered correctly - had stepped in front of the judge and a microphone. 

 

“Malachi Gonzalez,” Judge Goldwater stated. “You are here on trial for the following charges: attempted rape, battery, aggravated assault, multiple counts of meditated attempted assault, and harassment.” The judge had almost suffocated by reading out all of them in one breath. “Mr. Gonzalez, how do you plead?” 

 

Betty held her breath and clenched her eyes shut while grasping Jughead’s hand, ready for the impending words to come out of his mouth and--

 

“Guilty, Your Honor.” 

 

Not that. 

 

She was expecting anything _but_ that. 

 

“What?” Betty, Jughead, Veronica, Cheryl, Toni - _okay, basically everyone in the courtroom_ \- and his lawyer asked in unison. 

 

“Malachi!” Counselor Peabody exclaimed. 

 

“I’ve been over this, Penny. I’m not pleading anything but guilty,” Malachi growled at his attorney. Before his lawyer could argue with him, the judge spoke over everyone. Betty and her friends hung at the edge of their seats. 

 

“Mr. Gonzalez. Let me get this straight. You’re going against the advice of your legal counsel and entering a plea of guilt to every charge that the State of New York has against you. You are pleading guilty, not because you have been forced to, and you aren’t taking any sort of a plea deal from the State of New York.”

 

“Yes, Your Honor. I’m guilty.” 

 

Before anyone could form a single word to describe the emotions running through their minds at the thought of Malachi willingly surrendering to the law, the judge spoke again.

 

“Malachi Gonzalez, with all of the charges that have accumulated against you _and_ that you have plead guilty to, I sentence you to forty years to life in the New York Prison System with no chance of parole.” Judge Goldwater’s gavel hit before the defense lawyer could object and before Betty’s jaw nearly dropped to the ground. 

 

She felt her muscles relax immediately as Malachi was handcuffed and escorted out of the courtroom, and she fell into the back of her chair, exhaling heavily. She was relieved. 

 

Jughead’s arms were around her before she knew it, along with those of Veronica, Cheryl, Toni, and even Archie as the jury was dismissed to her right. Her friends let go of her as she got up and shook the state attorney’s hand in thanks for his time, before turning around and pulling Veronica into a tight hug. 

 

“This is-- oh my God!” she squealed in Betty’s ear. “So unexpected but so amazing!” 

 

“Thank you,” Betty whispered to Veronica, tears pricking her eyes. “For taking care of me after what he did. For being the best friend I could ever have, V.” 

 

Veronica didn’t reply, but held Betty tighter. They soon let go of each other and Betty was then hugging Jughead. 

 

“It’s over,” he whispered to her caringly. “It’s over now.” 

 

“I wasn’t safe where I was when you found me,” she muttered in his ear. “And you knew it… You knew it better than anyone.” 

 

“I love you, Betty,” he said, kissing her cheek and continuing to hold her tight. 

 

“I love you too, Juggie.” 

 

After making their way past the press - who were trying to get a statement from anyone that had been in the courthouse _(especially_ Betty) - the group of six plus Hot Dog were able to get in their cars and drive to Pop’s for a celebratory lunch. Every member of the group was ecstatic that they wouldn’t have to relive the few most terrible months of their lives under public scrutiny. Betty and Jughead were especially relieved at that, which was emphasized by the way they wouldn’t stop smiling or leaning into each other. 

 

They were all sitting at Pop Tate’s largest booth, happily joking and talking amongst each other when the jovial older man brought six milkshakes to the table. After everyone got their correct flavor and had taken a few sips of the creamy, frosty liquid, Veronica sat up a little higher, prepared to address all of her friends with Archie’s arm slung over her shoulders. 

 

“Well, group, we’ve been through shit these past months,” she began cordially. “And now that we’re done dealing with lawyers and trials and a select few that can go die in hell for all we care… I propose a toast.” Veronica held up her chocolate milkshake. “To normalcy for once… And especially to life sentences and successfully suing deadbeat parents.” 

 

“Cheers!” Betty interjected, reaching over and clinking her vanilla milkshake with Veronica’s chocolate one then taking a large chug of frosted vanilla delight. The entire table erupted with laughter at how quickly and enthusiastically Betty had agreed with her best friend. 

 

“Before we get too rowdy, I have some important news to share as well,” Veronica added right as Betty gulped down the milkshake in her mouth. “I just secured a book tour for our friend Betty Cooper over here.” 

 

“Veronica!” Betty exclaimed in shock, nearly throwing her drink across the diner. 

 

“Whoo!” Cheryl and Toni said together. “Road trip!” 

 

Jughead didn’t respond, but pulled Betty closer to him as she smiled. He thought he caught Archie asking if he could tag along for security purposes, but he put that out of his mind as soon as Betty looked up at him with those enticing jade eyes of hers. 

 

“Hey,” he whispered to her. “Congrats. I know you wanted a book tour at some point.” 

 

“Thanks,” she replied, kissing him on the cheek. Before she could say anything else, Veronica spoke up again. 

 

“The first stop is next November, starting in Toronto, Canada.” 

 

“Well it looks like I’ll have to put off a journalism degree for a little bit,” Jughead whispered in Betty’s ear. She whipped her head around to look at him. 

 

“What?” she asked, startled a bit at the statement. 

 

“So long as your offer is still on the table, I wanted to go to college and finally get my degree,” he said. “Is it?” 

 

“Of course, Jug,” she replied. “I’d be more than happy to help you financially.” 

 

“Great because college is fucking expensive,” he added, making Betty laugh softly. “But that doesn’t mean I’d stop being your bodyguard…” 

 

“You gotta hit your peak sometime,” she replied. “Eventually I’ll be able to live mostly normal, but for now… with this tour and so long as there are suffocating crowds… I’m still going to need my favorite security guard around.” She bit her lip, looking into his eyes. 

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. 

 

“And I’m not letting you get away from me,” she breathed, tilting her chin up to kiss Jughead. 

 

Nobody else around the table in that booth at Pop’s made a single joking comment about their public display of affection. After all, Betty was finally happy and almost completely worry-free. She was only getting started in her new happy life… so why would they stop that? 

 

_**Later that night…** _

 

“Isn’t this a little ridiculous?” 

 

“I am _hurt,_ Elizabeth Cooper,” Jughead replied mockingly, stopping on the sidewalk and turning to face her with a hand over his heart. “You don’t like my surprise dates?” 

 

“Of _course_ I love your surprise dates, I just wish you’d give me a goddamn hint sometimes!” she pleaded, squeezing his hand and bumping into his shoulder.

 

Once they’d gotten back to their penthouse (and after a romp in her their bedroom), Jughead had promised her a date but he wouldn’t tell her what it was. He only laid her out an outfit - a flowing light blue dress and a pair of white flats, called Cheryl up to their apartment to do Betty’s hair, and made sure Toni and Veronica were present as well. They kept her occupied, allowing Jughead to plan out their date in secret. 

 

When she was finally able to leave her friends’ company, they waved her off as she left Hot Dog with Veronica and walked out with Jughead. He’d dressed up nicer than he usually would for one of their dates: a light blue button-up shirt to match her dress, navy slacks, and a navy _tie._  

 

The tie threw her off. Betty never saw Jughead willingly wear a tie except when he was in his Lodge Industries Security suits or on the few occasions that they went to court. She remembered the night that Cheryl and Toni got engaged: the couple had wanted to go to a nice dinner afterwards and Betty nearly had to force Jughead into a tie so that Cheryl would shut up and they could go eat. 

 

He’d also obviously made his hair look like he tried to tame the thick, dark chocolate locks on his head. That wasn’t unusual, but it was appreciated and Betty never had to ask him to. He either wanted to do it himself or he knew he should do it himself. 

 

After they had a dinner together at one of NYC’s best restaurants (Pop’s twice in one day was not the best thing for anyone), Jughead paid the bill and nearly dragged Betty out of the restaurant, both of them smiling like idiots as they walked together. That’s when Betty started to get playfully irritated that Jughead wouldn’t tell her anything about where they were going. Betty hadn’t been everywhere in New York City, but she felt as though she was being led towards a landmark or something. 

 

The sky was dark, as the sun had just set about fifteen minutes prior, but New York City was still lit up and Betty knew she could see a litter of stars above her if she could just catch a glance upwards. There was no time for that, as Jughead was quickly leading them somewhere closer to the middle of the city and without an explanation. 

 

“Just a hint?” Betty pleaded. 

 

“Okay, fine,” Jughead replied, stopping them both on a street corner. They looked into each other’s eyes before one of Jughead’s fingers was leading her line of sight across the street. There it was: Central Park, fairy lights creating a path on either side of the trail and towards the center of the park. The little white lights lit up the path perfectly, creating a romantic glow. 

 

“What _is_ that?” Betty asked him, unable to remove her eyes from the dazzling sight. Before he could answer, Jughead was ushering Betty across the crosswalk and closer to the lit path. He sighed, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to contain his secret date idea for much longer. 

 

“There’s this music group that plays in the park at night,” Jughead told her. “They perform lyrical covers of songs and people have been known to come from wherever in this city just to go dance there…” Jughead squeezed her hand as he spoke in a tender voice. “I know the first time I took you dancing didn’t end particularly well… And I think this environment is much more your speed.” He looked at her. “What do you think?” 

 

“It’s perfect,” she whispered, kissing his cheek softly. “Lead the way, Hades,” she purred, referencing to a conversation they had long ago about a certain Hercules movie. He grinned and started walking. 

 

“As you wish, Persephone,” he chided back, making her giggle as they made their way through the park. Betty couldn’t help but look around like a child in a large candy store while Jughead pulled her along. The lights guided the walkways and the stars in the sky dazzled as she gazed up and around, lost in her surroundings. 

 

Jughead would never admit it in a thousand years, but he was a romantic at heart. She could tell that he knew she would like what he had planned, whether she had confirmed it or not. Before she realized what was happening, Jughead stopped and she was catapulted back into reality, out of her headspace. 

 

There was a small acoustic band of five in a park square, trees riddled with fairy lights and multiple couples dancing along to the smooth sounds that the band was exuding. The people all had smiles on their faces, which put a grin on Betty’s face. She could feel Jughead’s eyes on her, but she didn’t care. 

 

“What do you think, Betts?” he asked. “Will you dance with me?” She giggled, finally looking at him. Jughead was holding a hand out for her and gazing at her as if she were his entire world. Betty bit on her lip gently and nodded, taking his hand. 

 

He led them to the outskirts of the cluster of people swaying along to the song that was ending when the band started a new song that Betty and Jughead both recognized. When Betty realized what it was, she arched an eyebrow at him. 

 

“Did you plan this?” she asked, keeping one palm in his while her other moved to his shoulder. His hand felt warm around her waist as he pulled her closer. 

 

“The song?” he asked in response. She nodded. “I knew this would all be here, but I did _not_ ask them to play “Bette Davis Eyes,” if that’s what you’re asking.” Betty rolled her eyes but smiled. “I think it’s quite ironic.” 

 

“I’ll say,” she replied. 

 

“And I do love your eyes,” he added. “So it’s fitting.” She allowed herself to chuckle lightly at him before the lyrics started. Jughead began to lead. 

 

_Her hair is Harlow gold_

_Her lips are a sweet surprise_

_Her hands are never cold_

_She's got Bette Davis eyes_

 

He twirled her around so her dress fanned out around her as her hair became a blur of shimmering gold curls. 

 

_She'll turn the music on you_

_You won't have to think twice_

_She's pure as New York snow_

_She got Bette Davis eyes_

 

They moved swiftly, like the flow of a calm river. 

 

_And she'll tease you, she'll unease you_

_All the better just to please you_

_She's precocious, and she knows just what it_

_Takes to make a pro blush_

_She got Greta Garbo's standoff sighs, she's got Bette Davis eyes_

 

 _She_ is _a bit precocious,_ Jughead thought to himself when Betty smiled up at him. 

 

_She'll let you take her home_

_It wets her appetite_

_She'll lay you on the throne_

_She got Bette Davis eyes_

 

Jughead held their hands together above her head and let Betty spin again as she looked up at the stars. 

 

_She'll take a tumble on you_

_Roll you like you were dice_

_Until you come out blue_

_She's got Bette Davis eyes_

 

He let her unfold from where she was in his arms, only for Jughead to pull Betty back in again, keeping the blonde close as she giggled. He smiled smugly in response. 

 

_She'll expose you, when she snows you_

_Off your feet with the crumbs, she throws you_

_She's ferocious and she knows just what it_

_Takes to make a pro blush_

_All the boys think she's a spy, she's got Bette Davis eyes_

 

 _Well I’ll be damned if my Betty Cooper isn’t ferocious,_ Jughead thought as her hand smoothed over his shoulder and moved to the back of his neck. She played with his dark hair as they continued to dance happily. 

 

_And she'll tease you, she'll unease you_

_All the better just to please you_

_She's precocious, and she knows just what it_

_Takes to make a pro blush_

_All the boys think she's a spy, she's got Bette Davis eyes_

 

They kept to a simple sway as the song began to come to a close. Jughead admired the lights around them reflected in the green of Betty’s beautiful eyes as she bit her lip to hide a grin he knew was underneath and just aching to come out. 

 

_She'll tease you_

_She'll unease you_

_Just to please you_

_She's got Bette Davis eyes_

_She'll expose you_

_When she snows you_

_She knows you, she's got Bette Davis Eyes_

 

As the song began to fade, so did the rest of the world. Smiling, Jughead and Betty both slowly leaned into each other. His nose nuzzled against hers for a moment before their lips brushed. They stopped swaying, revelling in their kiss under the stars and little fairy lights in the park. 

 

When they pulled away from each other, they realized that another song was about to start. They knew that now would probably be best to bow out of the next song for a little more time together, so Jughead took Betty’s hands in his own and started to pull them across the park square. 

 

“C’mon,” he whispered to her. She giggled a little and followed closely, interlocking her fingers with his. “We can come back, they’ll be here a bit longer.” Betty nodded and walked next to him as he led them down the sidewalk opposite the one they entered on. 

 

This path was a little more private, with less people on it than the last. It was slightly darker, but the fairy lights were still illuminating the path as Jughead spotted an empty bench. He let Betty sit first before he took the spot next to her. 

 

“So, what d’you think?” he asked, a smile on his face. 

 

 _“So_ great,” she replied, not letting go of his hand and moving closer so that their thighs were pressed together. “Thanks for doing this… you know… after everything is finally over.” 

 

“This was our little celebration,” he said softly. “It’s the end of an era.” 

 

He was right. The Coopers hadn’t been in touch after they finished all of their payments to Betty and they hadn’t sent one menacing note or email their way. Malachi was going away for the rest of his life. The house Betty had bought in Riverdale had finished construction a month prior. Cheryl and Veronica had been helping Betty furnish the house because Betty wanted to surprise Jughead again. Betty had a tour scheduled for her memoir starting the next November. Her job at the _New York Times_ was going super well. Jughead was planning on going to college after Betty’s book tour. Betty was going to therapy progressively less (which was a good thing, of course), and Hot Dog didn’t always need to be around her anymore because her mental health had improved so much. Cheryl and Toni’s wedding was coming up in the summer, Veronica and Archie were going well, and here they were: on a bench in Central Park, under lots and lots of fairy lights. Everything had seemed to work itself out. 

 

“It is, isn’t it?” she asked, sighing contentedly and smiling. She laid her head on his shoulder, looking up at the stars. It reminded Betty of her birthday date the previous July. 

 

“It is,” he replied. Jughead let go of her hand, moving his arm around her back and placing his palm on her side as he rested his head against hers. 

 

“Thank God,” she said quietly. He chuckled with a smile. 

 

They sat there for a few more moments before Betty broke the silence again. 

 

“What’s next?” she whispered. 

 

“Well… there’s Cheryl and Toni’s wedding, the book tour… the house in Riverdale will be finished soon… going to college for a degree…” 

 

They were quiet for a long pause again. 

 

“So... life, basically,” she said finally with a small laugh. 

 

More comfortable silence ensued. 

 

“I love you,” Jughead said, shattering the quiet bubble around them. “I’ve loved you ever since we became friends… I just didn’t know it.” 

 

“I’ve loved you ever since the first time I had a nightmare and you slept next to me,” she whispered. “I didn’t realize until a while later.” 

 

“We could sit here all night and go over every memory we’ve had together in the past year,” he joked. He could feel Betty laugh quietly under his arm. 

 

“It’s been a hell of a journey,” she sighed. 

 

“You wanna keep it going?” He asked, pulling his head from hers. Betty lifted her head off of his shoulder and they gazed at each other. 

 

“I wouldn’t dream of anything else,” she whispered seriously, looking him in the eye. 

 

Carefully, Jughead let go of Betty’s waist. He let himself swiftly slide off of the park bench until one foot and its alternate knee were planted on the ground next to her. Jughead watched as one of Betty’s hands came up to her mouth and the other clasped one of his hands when she realized what was happening. His free hand dug a small box out of his pocket, managing to open it up and turn it around for Betty to see.

 

“Elizabeth Victoria Cooper,” he addressed her. She audibly let out a single cry, her hand still covering her mouth. “Will you marry me?” He asked proudly, displaying the ring for her to see. 

 

Her body quickly racked with sobs as her hand came down to cup his face. She smiled through her tears and nodded almost violently. 

 

“Yes,” she said, choking up. Jughead smiled. “A million times, yes! Absolutely!” She laughed softly through what he could tell were overwhelming tears of joy. 

 

He smiled and laughed quietly as Betty joined him on the ground, still in tears. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in for a bone-breaking hug, their knees solidified on the ground. When they pulled away, Jughead looked at the opened box still in his hand, taking out the silver band with a diamond in the center, a small emerald gem on either side and embedded in the metal. 

 

Betty was still crying as Jughead took her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. He stood up and she followed before he could help her up, hugging him again while still in tears. Jughead secured her to his chest as Betty cried in shock and happiness. 

 

“I love you so much,” she sobbed, pulling out of the hug. Jughead captured her face in his hands tenderly. 

 

“I know,” he muttered before kissing her soundly. Betty’s arms defaulted around Jughead’s neck and they both felt as if fireworks were going off all around them. They kissed for what felt like an endless amount of time. They didn’t know if they were there for seconds, minutes, or hours, just kissing each other. 

 

And then they were torn away from their haven by a familiar squeal. 

 

“CONGRATULATIONS, B!” Veronica screamed from a set of bushes close to them, making herself visible. 

 

Betty jumped and accidentally bit Jughead’s lip as she pulled away in shock to face her best friend. 

 

“Veronica?” she asked, holding onto Jughead tightly. She stood in shock as Cheryl, and Archie also revealed themselves and Toni stepped out of the bushes with Hot Dog. Snapping her gaze up to Jughead, her jaw dropped. “Did you set this up?!” 

 

“Who else would it have been?” he replied, kissing her hair. “Once I told them what I was doing, they begged to be part of it. I said no, but then they were satisfied with eavesdropping and getting a professional photographer so--” 

 

“You got a professional photographer?!” 

 

“Yep,” he replied as their friends made their way over. “He’s been tailing us all night - _discreetly.”_ Betty looked offended. “You can be mad at me all you want when we have glorious pictures of us to mark the occasion… Now go show your friends the ring.” 

 

Betty smiled brightly, pecking him on the cheek before running over to Cheryl, Veronica, and Toni as Archie went to congratulate Jughead. 

 

“Betty!” they squealed as they almost tackled the blonde with a group hug. They were a giggling cluster until Betty stepped back, still beaming. 

 

“Show. Us. The. Rock,” Veronica demanded. Betty laughed, holding out her left hand for them all to see the ring. Her friends grabbed her hand, pulling it closer so they could huddle around it, squealing with happiness. 

 

“Amaaaazing!” Toni cheered. 

 

“It’s beautiful, B!” Veronica added. 

 

“Just as I expected,” Cheryl said. Betty and her friends looked at the ginger, confused. She scoffed. “I helped him pick it out, duh. I’m your stylist, Bettykins. It’s kinda in the job description.” 

 

They laughed, pulling each other back into a group hug while Archie clapped Jughead on the back in good will. Once the excitement had dialed down a bit (and the photographer got enough pictures of Betty and Jughead), everyone was able to have normal conversations with everyone else. 

 

“So you guys hid in the bushes across from the photographer and saw the whole thing?” Betty asked then, Jughead’s arm across her shoulders and Hot Dog sitting at her ankles loyally. 

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Veronica teased from next to Archie. “We got a video too. We’ll show you later… or we can play it for your kids. Whichever comes first.” Everyone laughed together, simply enjoying all of the contagious happiness. 

 

After each couple had the chance to dance to a few songs played by the band that was nearby, they all went for late night ice cream, toasting their frozen treats to happiness for all (but specifically to Betty and Jughead). 

 

They walked in pairs back to the Pembrooke, arms wrapped around each other and smiles plastered on faces. Betty and Jughead were in the back, unable to let each other go for more than a second and kissing every few seconds when they weren’t too busy talking or smiling or laughing together. 

 

“Jug, I’ve got to let you know that I can’t just take your last name,” she said after a while, Hot Dog at her ankles as always. “I want all of my work to still be connected to me: my memoir, my articles, my work at the _New York Times…_ all of it.” 

 

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied calmly, booping her nose as they walked in sync. She smiled again. “It’s okay. I really don’t mind. And I absolutely understand.” 

 

“I would love to be Betty Jones but--” 

 

“Say no more, Betts,” Jughead interrupted. “I’m seriously cool with it and I get it. I will never _not_ be cool with it.” 

 

“That’s really okay?” Betty asked, unsure.  

 

“Absolutely,” he stated. “And I want that for you because that’s what _you_ want for yourself.” She gazed at him lovingly. “It’s your choice, after all… And patriarchy is overrated. You go defy traditional standards, Betty. I’ll support you in that fight.” She giggled, holding him closer and pulling him down by his tie for a kiss as they continued to walk down the streets of New York City. 

 

“I love you so much, Juggie,” she whispered, keeping a sturdy grip on his tie as she went in again. 

 

“I love you too, Betts,” he replied after they pulled back. Betty let go of his tie with a smirk and they started to distance themselves from the rest of the group a little more. 

 

“I’m kinda sad tonight’s over…” she said, looking into his blue eyes. “It’s been so amazing.” 

 

“Oh, Betty Cooper,” he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “This night is far from over. We still have some… _business.”_

 

“What kind of... _business?”_ she chided, biting her lip in anticipation. 

 

“I hope you don’t have plans tomorrow,” he whispered huskily. “I believe this _engagement_ will be lasting... _all night.”_ Betty giggled at the pun and blushed at the implication. 

 

And he was right. It truly lasted all night. And a good amount of the next day. And many, many, _many_ more times after that. 

 

**fin**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Hope you enjoyed! That's *kinda* the end of this story. 
> 
> My babies are enga-aged! WHOO! Yes, that is what I had planned from the beginning! 
> 
> Okay, so: epilogue. 
> 
> The epilogue for this story will be called "i'm safe now (and i love you for it)" and no, I do not know when I'll be posting it yet. I'm not writing a wedding scene so don't even ask (no offense to those who do write wedding scenes, but I find them a bit cliche and redundant at this point). 
> 
> To stay updated:  
> \- You can follow me on tumblr (@riverdalenerdlol) for updates - and believe me: I do update... and shitpost too!  
> \- You can subscribe/bookmark the series that I've created for this collection: "finding safety (in security)" - because I like a good play on words (Jughead is a bodyguard... security... this whole fic is literally Betty finding safety in Jughead - safety in security. DUH).  
> \- Or you can simply refresh your browser for a few weeks before I drop the epilogue. 
> 
> It's your choice, really.
> 
> Oh! Now would be a good time to mention that my next fic will be a Riverdale x HP universe Bughead fic! I'm super excited for it and, naturally, I've already planned out the whole thing! (You can tumble with me to find a sneak peek or two hidden on my unorganized dash - search up #ao3 on my tags and it's buried in there somewhere...) 
> 
> If you're not already following me on tumblr and you want a surefire way to stay up to date with my writing, I suggest you hit the follow button, dudes. This isn't me follower-baiting or whatever, this is seriously the best way to keep up with whatever the crap I'm currently doing - whether that be writing, fangirling, or thinking about writing, etc. And I reblog the shit out of my own fic posts (and other writers' too! Support your fellow authors!), so there's almost no way you'll miss it unless tumblr eats it. 
> 
> Alright. I guess that's it. See you on the flip side. 
> 
> And good for you if you made it this far. I appreciate you reading my word vomit of an end note. Hopefully it was comprehensible.


End file.
